The Mug of Coffee, the Cup of Tea
by Jojoann
Summary: The story set after the end of Series Three. It's so good to have the best friend you can always rely on - but what does it really mean?
1. Chapter 1

_Hello everybody! This is my first fanfic after fifteen years :) and the very first one in English. And this is my second fic about Dempsey and Makepeace - well, not exactly. The first one was more about the SI-10 squad and it was written in 1989, on paper, right after the show was aired here for the first time. I was a teenager then and the story was naive but my school friends quite enjoyed it :)_

 _I have a draft of this one in my head already but you'll never know how it will evolve… Rather fun and humour than angst and definitely NOT a sad story, as I hate sad stories :) If you think it's worth writing and reading, please review for my pleasure :)_

 _And special thanks to **Krato** who just told me one day: DO IT! :)_

* * *

 **Prologue**

Warm evening was quietly falling on London. Harry entered the hallway and closed the door behind her.

For a moment she stood, listening to the silence of the house. Then, slowly, she hung her light summer jacket on the rack and kicked the heels off. God, finally home, sweet home.

She went to the lounge and with a sigh of relief she sat on the edge of the sofa. She was bone tired. Felt the ache of her entire body, even nails and hair. That's about enough. It was one of the worst days in her career.

That was the job itself: villains, scum bags and their victims. Dark secrets, crimes, cold-bloodedness, mercilessness. Sometimes just small coward people with their hearts sinking in shit. She's been in this business for nearly ten years and she saw so many things that could've broken her into pieces. But she was tough; you must be tough to keep yourself on the surface, to swim and not to sink. She was still able to laugh, enjoy the life, be glad of what it was bringing. So were her colleagues. Sometimes, though, she asked herself: how. How it is still possible. How she can lock a crime file in the cabinet at the end of the day and, joking with guys, she can go to the pub with them, go to a cinema, to a party with friends, or just go home without thinking of the case - only of the dinner, glass of Chardonnay and a long bath before she drifted into quiet sleep.

Not everytime, though.

And not every villain was a real villain…

They all knew DS Adam Austin well; nice guy around thirty, working for the murder squad. He was very popular because of his great sense of humour and joy. So they all were really shocked, completely shocked, when the news spreaded - Adam's wife, Katherine and their two-year-old daughter were killed in a car accident, probably by another driver who didn't stop to help. A hit-and-run.

It had happened at the end of April and all Adam's work colleagues promised to do their best to find the killer as soon as possible.

But so did Adam. And he was always a step ahead of them.

 _Harry noticed immediately that something wrong must have happened: Dempsey answered the phone, after a second he said: "Hi Adam" friendly but then his face suddenly tensed and got pale grey. She had seen his face like that only two or three times before. Slowly, very slowly he dropped the receiver down without putting it on a cradle._

" _Dempsey?" she asked with a kind of fear. "What's going on?"_

 _He looked at her with a look that frozen her to the bone, and then took a deep breath and stood abruptly._

" _Let's go" he demanded with cracked voice. "Now!"_

 _She hasn't asked about anything; threw herself to the door following him. It was obvious for her there was no time for questions. Anyway, in a while she knew already everything._

 _Adam has found the driver and shot him._

 _When Dempsey told her that, running to the car park, she couldn't believe it. It was too much to be understood. But although the reality was cruel and horrible, it was the reality._

 _With all her presence of mind, she grabbed his arm and pushed him to her car, to the side of the passenger seat; she was sure he shouldn't drive now. Her car literally jumped out from the parking to the street._

" _He said 'Jim, I got the bastard' " Dempsey's voice was barely audible. "I knew at once whom he was talking about and wanted to ask him what was happening, where they were… And then he added 'and I shot him. I am calling you Jim because I know you will understand' I don't know what he meant but…" he interrupted. "You know…"_

 _She knew. They both returned their thoughts to the day Dempsey nearly did the same: shot an unarmed man in revenge. He was already pulling the trigger when she got there, just in the very nick of time. It was an absolute miracle she managed to stop him. A millisecond that saved him from a lifetime misery._

" _Just like he knew."_

 _She glanced at him uncertainly._

" _Dempsey, I haven't told him."_

" _I know you haven't Harry. You haven't told anyone… and neither have I" He looked at her, his look said 'thank you'. He shrugged. "I think the boy just trusts me. But it's a weird feeling, really weird."_

 _When they arrived at the given address in Pimlico, Adam was awaiting them at the front door of a small house. He was smiling lightly, but he looked serious; as if he just resigned to his fate. He let them in. The body of a man was lying in the narrow hallway. A hole in the forehead, almost no blood._

" _I am sorry, Harry, Jim, to involve you" he said when Harry suggested them sit in the kitchen and talk. "I know I did something most people take as an unforgivable thing. But you understand, Jim, don't you? You are righteous and brave man. You'd also protect, defend and avenge people you love. You wouldn't let it go. I always knew that."_

 _Harry shivered._

" _Adam…" Dempsey has cleared his throat "you know we must take you to the station now, don't you? We need to take you there and then interrogate you."_

 _Adam waved his hand._

" _Of course I know, Jim! Justice. I will pay the price for what I have done. Fine with me. I know I will land in prison. But it does not matter. You know, I am dead already, I've been dead since the day this bastard took away all that was precious in my life. It does not matter where I will stay until the day it's really all over" His smile was boyish and sad._

 _Harry's and Dempsey's eyes met for a long while. Then Dempsey stood up and went to call Chas by RT._

About two hours later, Dempsey and Makepeace returned to the office. In the meantime the boys somehow got to know what had happened but one look at their colleagues' faces told them not to ask. Both went straight to Spikings' office.

After the untypically quiet long discussion, they both returned to their desks and spent the rest of the day in silence.

Later in the evening when the others were off, they sat in the empty office together with Chas and Dave, who had interrogated Adam, and finally they had a chance to discuss it all. However, there wasn't much to discuss. The whole story really made all of them a bit sick. Dempsey was just sitting in his chair, swearing silently, calmly, and without repeating a phrase. Well, he said out loud what they all thought.

A bit reassured to know they all felt the same, they left for home shortly after eight.

Harry changed her clothes, put the kettle on and sat down in the kitchen waiting for water. She'd rather go to bed as soon as possible and drift to sleep just not to think about the mess but it was too early, nine o'clock... She had no idea what to do for the next couple of hours; she thought she needed a company.

In the middle of a working week she did not want to call up any of her old friends… besides, they wouldn't get on what was eating her. Their lives have been slowly drifting apart more and more; all the things that were so nice at weekends and parties, were just an empty colour bubble when it came to real life. Well, there was Angie, with whom it was different, but she was in Canada for a while.

Harry hesitated looking tentatively at the phone. Although she and Dempsey were spending quite much of their off-duty time together - dinner, cinema, a lazy chat in a pub or just a quiet evening at her place - usually she wasn't the one suggesting doing it. She always had a feeling he had better things to do. In fact, he refused only once and it was definitely because of a new girl he had just met.

The thought, as usual, had annoyed her although she always tried not to keep an eye on his miserable love life. Well, anyway, it wasn't something she was interested in.

Oh for goodness sake, whom was she kidding, herself? She just preferred not to know. During all these years she saw some of these girls occasionally and the best she could've done was to restrain herself from any comment. An act of mercy.

"And when he'd once scored a classy, posh American" she thought with sarcasm "she appeared to be a professional killer. Well, what a poor taste he has".

OK, she decided to call him anyway. She owed him that; that day was equally horrible for both of them. She tried to decide what would be the best - a quick drink in a pub somewhere half way or a movie maybe? She had no idea what was on screens these days. OK, pub then. Two glasses of a white and just a chat with someone who understood definitely would help.

Just when she was about to lift the receiver up, the doorbell rang. Standing up she couldn't help but smile.

"Hiya" Dempsey said, coming in, when she opened the door and stood back a little to let him in. "Just thought we needed some wine and company tonight. And a film to watch. Am I right or am I right?"

"Sort of" she nodded with a weak smile, closing the door. "Actually I was thinking about meeting you in a pub."

"A pub came over to you" he lifted his hand showing her a bottle of wine. "Hope this one's fine? And here's the film" he handed her a videotape. "It was bloody difficult to chose something, you know. Stupid comedies don't do tonight, and movies showing the horrible gangs of New York or fair and square cops make me sick. The girl at the video rental was quite helpful, though, and she suggested this one. She said it was so nice she'd like to watch it again."

"Oh I'm sure she would" Harry smirked. She looked at the cover: _Stand By Me._ "I'm more than sure. Did she mention she'd like watching it again in a nice company, too, and when she'd be off tonight?" They went to the kitchen.

He picked up the gauntlet with delight, as usual when it came to their favourite game.

"Yep, she suggested something like that but I told her I was going to a girl who is very possessive and does not like threesomes."

She studiously rolled her eyes searching the cupboard for the red wine glasses. Well she knew it wouldn't matter to him if she poured the wine into plastic cups, he wouldn't even notice. Not that she had just a single piece of a plastic cup at home... Finally she remembered all glasses were still in the dishwasher.

They haven't even talked much that evening. Knowing each other so well, and for so long, a friendly silence felt to them like a form of a nice chat. _Stand By Me_ did hit the mark: a bit nostalgic, lovely and full of sense of humour they both shared was good enough to make them both feel better. So was her favourite red wine - Harry really appreciated Dempsey still remembered which one it was - and when Harry closed the door when he eventually left right after midnight she was calm, relaxed and ready for the brand new day.

'In fact that's sad' she thought, brushing her teeth 'new day, new case and new challenge to focus on, and in a while we'll all forget this sad story, with four lives ruined or lost. But that's obvious we cannot do anything else about it, just keep on going. Ugh.'

* * *

 **Chapter One**

"Seems it's gonna be a lovely summer" Mona Hughes claimed.

They met in the car park of SI10 and were walking to the building together. Indeed, the Monday morning was nice, blue sky, sun shining, warm little wind.

"Good weekend, Harry?"

"Acceptable. Sunday at the swimming pool with two girls from school, that kind of thing, you know."

Mona, Chas Jarvis' girlfriend, worked for Scotland Yard vice squad and cooperated quite often with SI-10. It was nearly two years earlier when she came to their office for the first time and Chas "took his chance", as he used to say. Since then they were quite good couple, very fond of each other, although the fact surprised Harry a bit: quiet, serious Chas, and always cheerful, light-hearted Mona, who always seemed to look only for fun. On the other hand, Mona has proved zillion times she was a damn good cop and she never failed at work. Anyway, though… And Chas was twelve years her senior. Opposites attract?

Chas, of course, was already in the office, reviewing new documents, when they both entered, Mona telling Harry about their weekend at Chas' family in a cottage in the countryside. This was not the most entertaining time, it seemed.

"Next Saturday, let's go all to a club" Mona suggested, closing the door behind them. "Even McDonald's would be more interesting than Chas' uncle Tom and aunt Gloria".

These words were heard by Chas himself and he raised his big brown eyes on her.

"I had told you we could duck out of going there if you liked" he noticed with a reproachful look.

"Yeah, yeah, but then it would be me to hear the ratty remarks from your mum and aunt" Mona snorted, pouring herself a mug of coffee. "It's always a man's girl who is to blame, isn't it, Harry?"

"Why asking me?" Harry laughed lightly, hanging her jacket on a chair backrest. "I don't have a man and I never duck out of going to the countryside."

"Well, I wouldn't, either, if I had a family running a big old estate in Kent."

"Oh I am so sorry I have only a family running a small new cottage near High Wycombe" Chas growled with a bit of sarcasm.

"Well I wish my father had just a cottage near High Wycombe, as then I might avoid a mockery about his estate in Kent" Makepeace said coldly. Seeing their uncertain looks, she left the subject. "Oh come on, we won't argue about our descent, it's so un-English!" she looked around the office. "Speaking of which, where's Dempsey?"

"Went down, to the garage. The guys were to check a thief's car" Chas, as always, knew everything.

"Ah, the burglar of Camden Town" Harry remembered. "Perhaps we'll finally move on. OK, let's see what we got here…" she looked with a bit of anger at a pile of papers on her partner's desk. Neverending story. Harry was always willing to make a lot of concessions to Dempsey regarding work - otherwise it would be impossible to work with him so well - but long ago she had promised to herself never, ever do his paperwork. And of course she failed several times, but always for a reason. Usually she refused when he tried to convince her that she was soooo good at writing things in proper English, and he'd rather do the other fifty percent of their work - that means, the legwork. It made her mad, he knew it and he loved it.

"Joyce Hargraves is allowed visitors" Chas remembered. "She is bored and demands a company, we're going to visit her tonight. Will you join us, Harry?"

"Oh?" Makepeace was surprised. "How is she doing?"

"Quite fine. Well she will stay in the hospital for the next two months or so, and the rehabilitation will be long as well, but at least doctors say she'll be walking on her own again."

"That's great" Mona sighed. "She had really bad luck."

"Just a common risk plus a contumacy" Chas shrugged. "A mishap, that's all."

Harry lowered her head over the papers. She hoped Chas would not ask her again for joining them tonight. She did not wanted to.

Six weeks passed since she had resigned from force and got back. Within these six weeks Harry has carefully packed back all the awkward and disturbing feelings and kept them very deeply, under the lid when they were before. Meeting Joyce could destroy her unstable peace of mind, crumble the fa **ç** ade again. She couldn't afford herself to it. Anyway, the uncomfortable memory of that evening Joyce came to talk to her, was still in her head.

" _You are the best policewoman I have ever seen. And you're crazy to throw away your career over a man!"_

" _I don't want to see him killed…"_

" _But don't you see - with you he stands the best chance of staying alive!"_

Harry couldn't remember herself having that opened up to a hardly known person ever in her life before. And she hoped it would never happen again.

Dempsey hasn't brought up the subject of those days in their talks, never. He didn't even ask her about the real reasons of her resignation! Might he know, she asked herself sometimes. On the one hand it was a kind of relief, on the other hand she was disappointed a bit, however, honestly, she hadn't expected anything in particular. But anyway… All that had happened within that shattering week, what happened on the pier when Daish's car fell into the river, what Dempsey himself blurted out in the moment of desperation - he's just passed over that.

" _Well you think I like working in this dump without…"_

" _Without what?"_

" _Without you."_

Of course he was very glad she decided to return, in fact he was over the moon, he told her that when they were returning to the office - and he also said he wasn't joking or teasing her at all saying he was going to resign from force either. She had no doubt he wasn't - although it was hard to her to imagine it. Well, he'd most likely pack his things and go back to the other side of the pond, to his good old precinct. He was safe since Coltrane had committed suicide in the cell before the trial. But generally speaking, for months no one has raised the subject of his return to the States. It was obvious for everybody he got used to the English life and finally made himself at home so there was no reason to change that, at least not until he was forced to. He said only once that it took a hell of time for his stomach to accept English food and it would be very unwise to expose it to a reversed shock. But usually he didn't talk about it at all.

And she preferred not to ask.

Don't ask - you won't get a response you may not like.

* * *

"Harriet!" Lord Winfield stood up from the table, looking with great joy at his daughter coming in. His face beamed with delight. "What a surprise! You said you wouldn't be able to join us tonight due to your job!"

"And that's true, daddy" Harry gave her father a hug and kissed his cheeks. "I can stay till nine thirty, then I must go. We start eeeeeeer… something at ten and my partner will pick me up from here. In fact it was his idea, so I can spend a while with you. Hello aunt May, hello uncle Malcolm. I am afraid I am not dressed properly, sorry for that. Hi Isabel, hi Sarah" Harry smiled at her younger twin cousins.

"You look great, Harriet" aunt May smiled at her too. "And this suit is very proper for L'Escargot, really. I assume your... night job rather excludes an evening dress?"

"Yes" Harry nodded knowing the family thinks curiously what this night job could be. They knew of course she worked for police but knew no details. Probably they thought she was a personal assistant of someone important or something like that. They'd be surprised, she thought, if they saw her gun discreetly hidden under the jacket of her "proper" suit.

"You're still working with this nice young man that was at Winfield last Christmas, Harriet, dear?" uncle Malcolm asked. "The New Yorker?"

"Yes, still the same partner, although I am not sure if the words 'nice' and 'young' describe him correctly, uncle Malcolm".

"Ah Harriet. I am nearly seventy, you know. To me, a guy who seems to be around forty, is young" uncle Malcolm chuckled. "And he is nice in my opinion."

"I hope James will step in when he picks you up from here" Lord Winfield cut in. "I need to say hello to him, my dear boy."

Harry kept deadpan face but it was really difficult. "My dear boy"! And yes, Dempsey will surely step in, at least to check if the restaurant staff remembers him. She quickly looked around; no, Lord Fenton was not here tonight.

"Have you ordered already?" she asked, opening the menu. "I think I'll have a glass of Chardonnay before the meal. I can afford one. So, aunt May, uncle Malcolm, how is life in Scotland now?"

* * *

When at twenty five past nine Dempsey's silhouette appeared at the door, Harry felt the relief. The family dinner was not as fantastic as it had seemed to be before. She liked them, she really did, but…

Lord Winfield has also noticed Dempsey.

"Ah, there he is" he said with delight. "James, hello! So glad to see you again!"

"Good evening, Lord Winfield, good evening everybody" Dempsey came closer to their table. Shaking hands with beaming Freddie, he gave a distracted smile to Isabel and Sarah, who looked at him with a kind of fascination, Harry noticed. Well, he looked damn good - a black shirt, a tie and a dark jacket, with all this messy dark hair falling on his forehead - and they were both just twenty-one. "Sir Malcolm, nice to see you again." He looked at aunt May and Harry quickly presented him to her.

"Ready, partner?" he asked her. "About time, great. I am sorry Lord Winfield I need to take your daughter away, but the business is waiting for us tonight." Harry couldn't believe her ears. What the hell happened to him?! " _Who are you and what have you done to the old good Yank of the Yanks?",_ she wanted to ask loudly.

"I will call you up next time when I am in town, James" Freddie promised. "We can have a drink or two then."

While they were going past the table where Lord Fenton had been sitting last time, Harry bit her lips not to give a lightest smile. That scene was still in her memory. It was not the problem Dempsey had came here in a dirty ragged jacket stained with fresh concrete, and his horrible old shoes left muddy traces on the shining floor, and it was not a problem he had been unshaven for about three days at least, and that he stinked of cheap cigarettes. It was the job, the undercover, he'd found something important and he rushed to tell her about it and to take her to help him. It was absolutely normal and if anyone raised this she'd be the first person to defend him. But when passing Lord Fenton's table he grabbed two bits of appetizer off his plate, and said 'thank you' to him… Lord Fenton, MP! This was absolutely outrageous, this was unbelievable, unacceptable behaviour, there was no excuse for that and Harry in fact didn't know why whenever she thought about Lord Fenton's face at that moment, she had to use all her willpower not to burst into laughter. But she couldn't show it to Dempsey!

"What was that?" she asked curiously as soon as they got on the street.

"What was what?"

"This show? _'I am sorry Lord Winfield I need to take your daughter away, but the business is waiting for us tonight'_ " she quoted. " 'The business is waiting for us tonight', really? 'To take your daughter away', really?" she looked at him and laughed. "So which old American film about the British aristocracy have you just watched, tell me?"

"I haven't! I just wanted to be nice and smart. I didn't want you to be ashamed of me" he grinned, obviously he had fun. "What have I done wrong then?"

"Nothing, in fact. They were really impressed! Well, so was I, although in a bit different way" she shaked her head in disbelief. "Where's your car?"

"Ten minutes from here. So, was it nice, that evenin' with old family mummies?"

"They're not family mummies, Dempsey, don't be disgusting. One day you may meet my aunt Mabel and you will understand what an old family mummy means!"

"OK, so was it nice, that evening with the family of yours?"

They were just passing a small bridge, Harry stopped, looking down to the water, for a moment a bit lost in her thoughts. Dempsey also stopped and looked at her, raising his eyebrow in a question.

"That's odd" she said slowly and leaned against the railing. "I was there, sitting, talking, listening, and I wanted to be anywhere else."

"Like with me?" he grinned again. "I had told ya to go to a movie with me instead. When will we have another free couple of hours in the evening, before a stakeout, huh? And you know, this new Bond is, as they say, fantastic. Don't you want to see it?"

She wasn't listening.

"It was really nice when we were sitting, laughing and talking about family, you know" she stared at the river. "About sons and daughters going to Oxford and Cambridge, getting married, having newborns, buying horses, losing money, you know, this kind of family rumours".

"No, I don't know, but I can imagine. So? Why was it a disaster then?"

"Well not a disaster, not at all, no. But then we finished with the family and started with people we know. In fact more or less the same things about them. But I have lost my interest immediately. I don't care about Lord Higgins' new flame, I don't care about a fox hunting at Groby estate, I don't care about the new wife of Sir Anyone of Anywhere. Well, I'd care about Lady Fishborne's gorgeous dress at the latest charity event but they did not continue, perhaps the dress had not unveiled too much…"

"Yeah, Harry. I hate to say this, but seems you became a communard" he laughed, leaning against the railing beside her. "You have devoted your life to the force and to rude and rough guys like me, and that's the price to pay. You know, everybody wants to be protected and saved by the police but everybody disdains us".

"I didn't say my family neglected me, it seems I am neglecting them!"

"Them, no. Their style of life, maybe. So what? You still like each other, don't you? Let them live their posh lives, and live yours. That's all. Let's go and buy somethin' to eat, I need some fuel."

"I am not hungry, Dempsey, I have eaten."

"Two lettuce leaves and two drops of lemon juice on them?"

"No, very good saltimbocca. Why?"

"Aren't you living on vegetables?"

"No, Dempsey, I am not. There you have a stall with hot dogs, go and buy some. And eat them now, not in the car, OK? I wouldn't fancy destroying my memories of the fantastic saltimbocca by the smell of your junk food."

"Wanna a coffee?"

"I don't want it - I need it. Yes please. Hurry up a little, we have fifteen minutes and still some way to go."

* * *

"What time is it, Harry?"

"Twenty seven past eleven. Dempsey, you know asking about time every five minutes won't speed the time itself?"

"I am still hoping. I am an optimist. You know what, next time I'll bring Monopoly."

"Monopoly. For a night stakeout."

"Yep."

"You don't have Monopoly."

"OK I'll buy it and bring it. Do you appreciate?"

"With all my heart. I'll bring a thermos with coffee. Why didn't you?"

"I don't have one. It's your thing to bring it."

"You could buy one rather than Monopoly. I am not carrying a thermos to a fancy restaurant. Brrrrr, good it's not cold tonight."

"It's June."

Harry yawned.

"God, I am sure nothing will happen that night. Why are we so sure they keep stolen stuff somewhere in this building?"

"My nose says so" he crossed arms on his chest and tried to sit more comfortably. "So, Makepeace - what was your very first innocent love?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know, a little girl and a little boy, in a kindergarten, a daisy he gave you or a kiss? I am not asking about the gory details of your real first time. I am asking about the first love of a child."

Harry thought for a while.

"Josh… or Justin?... Huttington. I was six, he was older. His family estate in summer. Our parents were sitting in the living room. He took me outside and we tried to smoke a cigarette under a bush."

"That's all?"

"Well what have you expected?"

"A cigarette? No kisses or playing a doctor? Didn't he ask you to show him your pink underpants?"

"Shut up, you are a pervert. No, nothing like that. I got sick and my parents took me home."

"You lived a really exciting life, Harry."

"I bet you have had much more exciting memories, Dempsey. A six-year-old James seducing the nanny of his best friend?"

"Makepeace. We didn't have nannies. But our friends had elder sisters. And well, I was much, much older than six, but…"

"Thank you, spare me that."

"By all means."

* * *

"OK, one hour to go" Harry stretched her arms. "I told you, it was a waste of time."

"Yeah, thanks. Do you think I'm enjoying getting stiff in the car?" he growled. He looked at her discreetly with the corner of his eye. A cloud has moved over the moon and went by, the dancing light painted nice shadows on her face. Her eyes were sparkling in the faint light. She was absolutely gorgeous. Why the hell did she have to be so beautiful?...

"My, my, why so angry? In an hour we can go and get some sleep, isn't it lovely?"

"If you join me."

She sighed. "You know it's getting boring a bit, don't you?"

"Well, it's not that bad if it's getting boring only after three years, babe."

"Dempsey, how many times do I have to tell you: Don't. Babe. Me. Yes, it's been three years and you still don't get it. I hate this word. It's sexist and dismissive."

"No it's not. It's" he paused for a while and looked at her "nice and tender."

Her heart fluttered a bit but only for a second. "Well you may think so but you're wrong. Most of these pet names are overused and useless, meaning nothing" was her voice sounding a little bitter?

"Some of them do mean something, though. Depends the circumstances."

She said nothing.

"Come on, Harry. Do really all of them sound so bad to you?" he smiled but his eyes were serious. "All of them? I always thought they were quite nice, even overused."

Suddenly she felt sorry for a kind of disappointment in his voice.

"Well" she started with hesitation "I don't mean all of them do, but…"

"I knew it!" he exclaimed with a grin. "I knew. So Harry, which is the one you find not 'sexist and dismissive'? Tell me."

She opened her mouth to disclaim but she didn't.

"I won't tell you" she bit her tongue but it was too late. Shit, what was she saying?!

"Why?" he laughed, somehow relaxed and delighted. She pursed her lips, angry with herself.

"Well" she desperately tried to joke "knowing that you may - I don't know - stop using it, just to annoy me?" God, how miserably it sounded.

"Awww, Harry, you have that low opinion about me, you're breaking my heart" he was really having fun. She was still angry, but now she didn't know with whom: him or herself. She was sitting still, staring directly at the window.

"What's so funny?!" finally she couldn't stand his obvious satisfaction. He looked at her with his familiar lopsided grin.

"Makepeace, do you realize you have just admitted you like at least one of the names I call you with and you want me to keep using it?" he looked at her with amusement. "Isn't it a reason of bein' glad?"

"I haven't said anything like that!"

"Oh yes, you have. Doesn't matter what words you've used" he grinned like a Cheshire cat. "So what's that? I'll find out. 'Tinkerbell'?"

"Oh be quiet!" she growled but suddenly she forgot the whole banter immediately. She caught his arm. "Dempsey!"

"Yep, I see it." He pulled the gun out of the holster and checked it.

Dark silhouette vanished in the gate of the abandoned house.

"Let's go, Makepeace. Time to catch our bird in the act."

"Let's see first what the act is."

They were walking carefully and quietly into the house. There was total blackout there, but fortunately this someone they were followed has lighted a small torch. Enough to see the direction.

The light has lowered. They stopped trying to see something. The guy has kneeled in the middle of a small room and started to do something on the floor. Something cracked loudly.

Makepeace glanced at her partner - he shattered his head barely visibly. _Not yet._

 _OK._

They both held their breath.

 _NOW._

* * *

"Twenty bags of cocaine hidden under the floor instead of a stolen stuff. This day gets better and better!" Dempsey was delighted.

"This 'day'?" Makepeace was trying to clean her suit with disgust. "What the hell is that?" she murmured.

"You mean this stuff you have on everywhere? Well at least everywhere I can see?"

"Have I told you lately you're so funny, Dempsey?" she sniffed. "Thank God it's not stinking, so it's not... I think it must be… mud with car oil? Yyyyyyh. And why is it always me who gets into trouble like that?! Why is that you never fall into a big… puddle of a greasy something?" She took a hairbrush out of her bag. "Great, you're right, I really have it everywhere." she started brushing the mud off her hair carefully. He turned his eyes from the suspect sitting in the police car ten yards away and gaped at her stupidly. There was something incredibly sexy about the woman brushing her hair, this woman… even when she was covered with greasy dirt.

"Do you have a blanket in the car, Dempsey?"

He looked at her, astounded.

"Blanket? Yes, of course, I have a blanket. And two pillows. And a picnic basket as well, with a bottle of champagne" he jibed. "All of them in a two seater with no proper trunk."

"I wouldn't like to dirty the fantastic leather seat of your car, Leftenant" she paused "but if you insist…" She opened the car door at the passenger side.

"Wait" he yelled. "All right, a second. Well there is a faucet in the yard, over there…"

"And what do you think I could do with a faucet? Have a bath? This wouldn't improve the… condition of my clothes and, then, seats in your car."

"How about taking a taxi?"

"Dempsey, don't push your luck. I am tired and angry, again I have ruined my clothes working with you and in about five hours I need to get up to interrogate the guy you've just caught up while I was crawling out from the mud and grease. Would you. Please. Give me a lift. Home?"

"By all means, Sergeant. And don't think about the seats" he decided generously. "After all, it's leather. I will clean it with ease."

Twenty minutes later Dempsey pulled over in front of her house. "Here you are" he wiped his eyes. "Gosh, I am dog tired."

"So am I. Thanks for the lift" she yawned. "See you in the morning. Bye" she opened the door and left the car. When she was at the house entrance already, Dempsey has leaned out through his door. "Oh, and Harry?"

"Yes?" she turned to him.

" 'Angel', may be?"

"Good night, Dempsey. See you in the office in" she looked at her watch "six hours."

She gave him a vicious smile and was gone behind the door.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello again, and thanks for the nice reviews! This is the second chapter. Now I can see the first one was much too long and I should have split it in two. Next chapters will be shorter but I will do my best to publish them every other Friday. Hope you like this one._

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

Gordon Spikings was a man devoted to his job, his office and his people. He spent much time at work, sometimes too much, as his wife said. This was the common knowledge but not many people knew he was also a family man, when, of course, he had time for it. He liked spending time with his daughter and son - when, of course, they had time for it. And he really liked spending time with his wife. When, of course, she… etc. But anyway, after nearly thirty years of their marriage, and despite stormy moments, frequent rows and word fighting, they enjoyed each other's company and had a kind of fun together. Spikings would never say that but he just could be himself when he was at home and that was worth everything. He liked his wife's strong personality, her stubbornness, her good heart covered by the cold head, her devotion to her work and a very good taste - she was always good looking, cared for her body (as a fifty-three she looked pretty well!), really loved fashion and thank God she had her own incomes, because as a policeman's wife she couldn't afford all these funny clothes - the simpler, the more expensive ones. And one day Spikings realized that perhaps it was one of the reasons he cared for Harriet Makepeace in a special way. She just reminded him of the younger (and nicer, and prettier…) version of his wife.

Of course there wasn't any kind of a romantic involvement in the way he cared for Makepeace; he liked to think about himself as her mentor and protector… besides, he had promised her father to protect her as far as she'd allow him to. Then he always felt a bit guilty when he told her to do dangerous and embarrassing things; and when Dempsey joined them and - in a way - took responsibility for taking care of her it was a relief on the one hand, but real fear on the other… knowing what Dempsey was able to do. Of course Spikings knew very well somewhere deep inside that Dempsey would never put her life in too much risk… if she allowed him to decide about it. And here we go again, walking in circles.

When Spikings arrived at the SI-10 quarters in the morning, the office was nearly empty but Dempsey and Makepeace were already there, standing together at the coffee machine, waiting for fresh coffee, talking lazily and looking rather not very enthusiastic to start a brand new day. Passing them, he beckoned them to follow, so they did, exchanging curious glances.

Dempsey leaned against the wall, as usual, having the whole inner office in sight this way. Harry stood at the middle, as usual, looking at the boss expectantly. Spikings studied her face very carefully for a moment, trying to convince himself the idea he had come up with yesterday was as good as it seemed to be at the beginning.

"Sir Percy Rathbone" Spikings began slowly. "Do you know him, Sergeant?"

"Personally not, no, Sir" she shook her head. "We haven't been introduced."

"So he doesn't know who you are."

"Correct, Chi… I mean, yes Sir."

Dempsey grinned. It always amused him when Makepeace picked up his American words and phrases he used or his way of addressing Spikings, sometimes even without noticing it. Spikings noticed it every time, though.

"All right" Spikings rubbed his head. "Tonight we are, the three of us, going to a very formal party in Dullwich Village. Harry, you must look like ten million dollars. I will pick you up from home at eight thirty. No, Dempsey, this time I'll do that. You will meet us at the party but you won't join us. You are going to observe. Everything. You don't know us and we don't know you."

Dempsey didn't look contented. If Harry was demanded to look like ten million dollars - as if she didn't! - he wanted to be the one to escort her. He loved it and he loved this kind of pride and feather preening he felt when he assisted the only woman making all heads turn when walking in the room.

"Sir Percy" Spikings continued "might - might!" he emphasized his words "have connections with the new drug dealers that have appeared in London lately. In fact, we don't know anything, there had been some suspicions… and some assumptions have been made, but nothing really certain. We need to get close to Sir Percy - as close as possible. And…"

"And that's why my task is to look like ten million dollars" Harry finished the sentence.

"Well, as a matter of fact, yes. Use all your charm, Harry. Try to look impressed by his personality. It won't be easy, I am afraid."

"Boss, are you tellin' us you're givin' Harry on a plate…" Dempsey paused "to this guy? I don't like the idea."

Spikings looked at him sharply.

"Only Father Christmas cares what you like, son, you know that?"

"Yeah, but he won't be here for next couple o'months or somethin', so I don't care. Seriously Chief, is that all you've got? How'bout something more creative than pushin' the chick into a… posh geezer's filthy hands?"

Spiking slowly turned red.

"Shut up, Dempsey" Harry murmured with the corner of her mouth.

"Hey, are you serious? Ya like being a cannon fodder like that?"

"I said shut up!" Harry noticed Spikings was getting already violet-purple and she was afraid his blood pressure was hitting the ceiling already. "In other words, Lieutenant, would you be so kind and let the boss continue, and, oh, would you also consider not giving me a lecture, at least now? You've always objected dangerous jobs for me, but that's not the case, so would you please stop acting ridiculously?"

Dempsey shrugged and first he said nothing, making instead his typical gesture with his hand, as always when he was out of the words. But after a second he opened his mouth with a familiar twinkle in his eye. He really had something to say and Harry was sure she wouldn't like it...

Spikings took a deep breath and rubbed his face. He looked really furious and Harry sighed, preparing herself for a great thunderstorm or even a sword whizz between these two, but suddenly something changed. Spikings suddenly, slowly smiled broadly under his moustache.

"Yes, Dempsey, Harry is to get close to the guy" his voice just dripped with milk and honey when he looked with a vicious smile at Dempsey. "And today it's just the beginning. Would be good, Sergeant, if you... made him... to propose you a dinner... or a date…"

"No problem, Sir, I think" Harry smiled a bit, only a bit, sending a challenging look to her partner.

Dempsey looked even less delighted, if it was possible. Spikings noticed the signs of the quickly incoming explosion.

"Chief, I think I should go with Harry" Dempsey said with his doggedness. "I wanna be in the middle, not just observing the fancy-schmancy somethin', don't even know what."

Spiking decided it was time to stop teasing the bloody Yank.

"Dempsey, do you know why it's me who will assist Harry tonight, not you?" Spikings sighed and looked at him seriously. "Sir Percy is a womanizer and can do much to get a woman he fancies, but if she" he pointed with his eyes at Harry "appears with a forty-something-year-old, good-looking guy - OK, you're not the Mister of the Universe, but you do manage to look good sometimes, especially…" _especially when you both are appearing together and you both are radiating this damned something like two bloody nuclear bombs_ , he wanted to say, but he bit his tongue "...when you are wearing a DJ", he finished instead. "Your presence at Harry's side might dissuade Sir Percy from, um, hitting on her. While when she is accompanied by" he coughed "a fifty-five, silver-haired, dignified gentleman…"

"This may encourage him" Harry nodded.

"Exactly. After the party we will meet in a quiet place and discuss the evening."

"May I suggest my place then, Sir? As it's not very far from Dullwich Village, it will take a while to get there." Spikings nodded in approval and Harry continued: "By the way this all means that I am leaving the office at two today"

"Are you?" Spikings raised his eyebrows. "And why is that?"

"Sir" Harry tried not to smile widely "making myself looking like ten million dollars it's not a piece of cake, it requires time and peace of mind. I need to arrange some things, like meeting my hairdresser, provided she has time, and other things, but I won't bore you with the details. So…"

"All right" Spikings sighed "two pm, then. Now you can go, both of you."

"Can I also leave at two, Boss?" Dempsey asked. "I could be Harry's driver in the afternoon while she's turning herself into a better version of Kim Basinger".

"Well thanks a lot, Dempsey, I am not going to look like this pathetic cow, I'm far better than her" Harry growled. "And I don't need the driver, especially the one who has a Mount Everest of untouched files on his desk, just for the afternoon!"

"Thanks, babe, I owe you one."

"OUT!" Spikings yelled so furiously that people in the outer office got silent immediately. Harry and Dempsey decided to leave in hurry.

"Why you girls dislike Kim Basinger so much?" Dempsey poured fresh coffee to their mugs and gave one to Makepeace.

Their eyes met.

"The correct question is, why you guys are so crazy about her?" she lifted her chin defiantly.

"Awww Harry, do I really need to tell you? We guys just like girls who are intelligent…" with his words, his hands made a round gesture at the level of his chest "and well-read…." same gesture at the level of his hips.

"Then I should take your idea of turning myself into her very offensive, Dempsey".

" _Better_ version of her, Makepeace. _Better_ version. Don't forget that."

* * *

The house in Dullwich stood in fact half a mile away from the village, hidden discreetly at the edge of the forest. It was very spacious and exclaiming with every brick of itself: "I am posh and I am money", like many of the houses in London were.

Inside, there was a crowd of blue-blooded snobs very busy on talking of nothing - at least it was the impression Dempsey has been getting hold since the very first time he attended this kind of party in England. Since that day he got used to that but he always thought it was a bit weird. American small talks were nicer. OK... so were the private parties in England he attended several times, with Harry and her friends he had met last year on several occasions; the guys turned out to be OK, he had a laugh wih them and although at the beginning he had a feeling of being seen like a kind of a rare animal at the ZOO, finally they got to know him and liked him, and he felt freewheelingly with them. He remembered their names and they called him Jim. All but Harry of course. He vaguely remembered the occasions she called him just "James" - four, five times during all three years? - and his imagination was not running that wild to picture her naming him "Jim". Even when his imagination was running wild, very wild, it was always "James", to be honest. And under the imagined circumstances, "James" was satysfying enough.

He took a piece of a canape offered to him by a nice long-haired girl standing in the middle of the hall, and a glass of champagne from a tray held by a tall pale faced waiter looking like Dracula suddenly awaken in the daylight, and started wandering lazily between people, trying to overhear bits of their conversations, and scanning the rooms in search of Harry and Spikings. He was also quite curious of the Sir Percy and tried to guess which of the guests can be him - this handsome and slim aristocrat with silver hair, or rather the one small and face-gleaming, drying his bald spot with a sheet-large handkerchief? Or perhaps… oh no, not that looking like ninety years old thin, pursily giggling guy with the Einstein-like hair, huge ears with strands of hair growing out of them, and other hair visible in his big nose? "Idiot" Dempsey thought about himself "the only drug the guy may be dealing with, is the sedatives prepared for his nearest future." Besides, the guessing was ridiculous anyway, there were more than one hundred and fifty people here, at least, more than half of them were men, and more than half of this half were men over fifty.

Looking at the walls full of horrible old pictures - why did the hell old English ancestors look like that and how they then had a slightest possibility to breed and maintain the English species?! - he went towards the big door of a kind of a huge ballroom full of big green plants where the piano was being played, and there they were, Spikings in a dazzling suit, with a mild, nice and false smile under his moustache, and there was Harry beside him, holding his arm.

Dempsey halted abruptly at the door, feeling sudden heat flowing over his entire body which simultaneously and absurdly turned to stone at the same moment. He literally couldn't move, he just could stay there staring at her and couldn't keep his eyes off her.

Harry didn't look like ten million dollars, as Spikings had demanded.

In fact she looked like a bloody billion in gold. She looked like the entire gold of the Fort Knox.

Moreover - she looked better than she did that evening at the bistro of Morocco Jack, which would have seemed impossible to him only five minutes earlier before he saw her.

 _Oh._

 _Sweet._

 _Jesus._

She wore a simple posh dress that was in colour of blue (yes, women may be more familiar with all these stupid names like turquoise, sea, azure, plum… and this kind of crap), and accentuated her perfect body curves; she had the hair up high - was it really done by her hairdresser, it looked so simple! - a very small diamond hairpin and the long diamond earrings. And that was all, no other jewellery. She looked absolutely gorgeous. The picture of her was just impossible. Her eyes were sparkling like blue stars - or it was just him who thought they were? - she was smiling like a goddess, the way that would make the Olymp shake. And, judging from other men's looks, Dempsey was not the only one who thought the same. But at least the other men were able to look everywhere, not only at her, unlike him, his eyes on stalks. Her dress, her hair, her smile, her eyes, her face.

" _The face which launched a thousand ships"_ \- Dempsey couldn't recall where he remembered these words from but that was what he thought in the first place.

Finally he moved, thinking that standing there and staring at her breathlessly might draw other people's attention, which was a rather unwanted thing at the moment. Simultaneously, both Spikings and Makepeace noticed him and while the boss kept the deadpan face Harry must have noticed something, perhaps she caught the glimpse of his bewildered look, because something strange flashed in her eyes, a hot spark, and she averted her look quickly.

A waiter came towards her and Spikings, offering them champagne. A man with a big belly approached Dempsey asking him for a lighter, they both lit themselves cigars and this gave him a second to compose himself. He swore in his mind. Damn it, damn it, damn it, he didn't need more trouble in his life!

Somehow he knew, though, it's been far too late.

* * *

"There's our bird" Spikings mumbled. "Standing at the big philodendron in the corner of the room, talking to the guy with the yellow tie. Yellow tie, for goodness sake."

Harry smiled lightly. She looked at her victim. Sir Percy Rathbone didn't look very interesting:a stout man with grey hair, rather calm and slow. What she noticed he had a quite pleasant smile. He was talking to the Yellow Tie, gesturing lightly with his left hand, keeping a champagne flute in his right one. He had a face of an old good neighbour you can go fishing every Saturday with. The Yellow Tie was much more interesting, despite the yellow tie of course: tall, slim, black-haired, tanned. But it was Sir Percy who was the target this evening.

"Let's try to meet him" Spikings said. "Where's our big white brother from the far foreign land?"

"Walking here and there and lending his ears, Sir" Harry informed him. She didn't see Dempsey at the moment, but she didn't have to; she had him permanently on her radar and she just knew in which place of a room he was. "Somewhere at the terrace door."

Sir Percy and The Yellow Tie have joined the group of four people looking at the huge wall picture of galloping horses, and discussing something with vivacity.

"OK, let's go then, now it's the time" Harry said quietly. "Come with me, Sir, and then leave us after few minutes. Leave the rest to me." Her nostrils twitched a little as if she smelled the quarry.

Spikings smiled very, very contently. Yes, this girl was the pearl in the crown of his wonder team.

"Hunting started, Sergeant?"

Makepeace smiled triumphantly.


	3. Chapter 3

_Still too much talking in this chapter instead of action, I am afraid ;) I need to speed it up otherwise I'll end up with 500 chapters but you'll fall asleep by #50! Anyway, enjoy and R &R please._

 **Chapter 3**

About an hour later Dempsey was a bit bored, quite frustrated and very hungry. These small bits of bread topped with something dangerously strange could not feed his appetite. He thought about a nice plate of spaghetti and his stomach grumbled. At the very moment he would be grateful even for one of these shitty hot dogs he and Makepeace had been selling on the street some time ago. Why the hell these people did not serve food at the parties?!

"Excuse me Sir" Spikings stood next to him raising a cigarette in his hand, looking at Dempsey meaningfully. Dempsey reached into his pocket and took out the lighter. This was the first time, he thought, he knew where he kept it - only because Harry couldn't serve him one, as she always did. There were people who were instantly losing their pens and pencils, he was always patting all his pockets in search of a lighter. Harry claimed she had always one for him, because this constant searching was driving her mad. During the lousy week she had quit the force he had to buy eleven lighters…

"How are we doing?" Spiking asked, with the nice smile that did not, however, cover his eyes. "Anything interesting?"

"Negative" Dempsey shrugged, puffing a smoke away. "Jus' small talks about nothin'. Gosh, I am so bored… And how are you doin'?"

Spikings sighed.

"I want to leave this place as soon as possible. But Harry seems to have a good time… not in the proper meaning of that word of course but the more she talks to this baboon, the more chance we have to know something useful. It took her too much time to get rid of the other bloody romeos."

They both looked in Harry's direction: she was standing with Sir Percy alone and listening to his words. She was smiling nicely and tilting her head a bit, looking into his eyes. Her fingers were tantalizingly playing on the edge of her champagne glass… Dempsey ground his teeth. Jesus Christ, she looked as if Sir Percy was the most interesting man in London. He knew it was only a game to play, the undercover, but anyway… How could she waste such breath-taking looks on this pig? Dempsey would give a year of his life to get just one look like that from her.

On the other hand… This look was fake. He knew her well enough to know the look Harry had in moments of real joy and fun was completely different. Although, he needed to admit, he'd never seen her looking at a man she really fancied. He was quite curious what such a look would be like.

"Put yourself together, idiot" he thought to himself. Sir Percy leaned forward and whispered something into her ear; she laughed lovably and gave him a long look through her long thick eyelashes. Dempsey has gritted his teeth; that was too much for him.

Spikings coughed meaningfully.

"May I remind you, Lieutenant" he said very quietly, with a seemingly friendly but chill smile "that we are on duty tonight?"

Dempsey got a grip in a second. "What do you mean?" he shrugged, with an innocent look. Spikings raised his eyebrows and wanted to say more but his eye caught Harry's small gesture; she took her hairpin from her hair and put it on the place again.

"All right, time to move in" Spikings mumbled. "I am going to join my protégée now and we are leaving. People must already think I am silly, letting her stay so long in this guy's company. Wait fifteen minutes and follow us, Dempsey, we are going to Harry's place to talk about the fancy evening. See you later."

* * *

"Am I smellin' food?" Dempsey's eyes brightened with delight as he stood in the doorway, although this time his joy had rather nothing to do with Harry letting him in. On his way to her place he was so incredibly craving any food that he was ready to get down on his knees at the threshold and beg her for an apple or a slice of toast. Now he did smelt the fried meat, and - yes, exactly! - heard the beautiful sound of something crackling on a pan. "Harry, quickly, tell me, is it a steak?!"

Harry laughed. He noticed she had taken off her diamond jewellery. Probably it was not proper for aristocrats, to fry the meat with their diamonds on? Well, she also had changed the dress, which was rather understandable, and now she wore a nice blue jumper and grey trousers. Gosh, she was quick, she had no more than ten minutes for this all!

"I knew we'd be rather hungry after this Lucullus feast at the party" she walked towards the kitchen, not waiting for him "so before I left I had put the marinated steaks in the fridge. Ready in ten minutes. But consider yourself warned, Dempsey – I'm serving them with vegetables!"

"You're saving my life again, Makepeace" Dempsey, truly happy, stormed in the kitchen. Spikings was here, sitting at the table, straightened up, his hands on the table; obviously waiting to be served food. Dempsey thought the only thing the Guv was lacking was a bib. For a reason, it annoyed him a bit, that Spikings just sitting and waiting, like a spoiled prince although of course there was no way the Boss could feel as familiar at Harry's place as Dempsey did. "Hiya boss, long day, huh? Need help, Harry?"

"Well" giving him a glance she turned the meat on the pan carefully with a spatula "you can open the red, please. And the glasses…" she didn't need to finish off the sentence.

Spikings observed with interest how Dempsey opened the cupboard and searched for glasses, and then took a bottle of the red Italian wine from the wine shelf, and a corkscrew from the cupboard drawer. Dempsey held his glance; if he seemed _en famille_ browsing Harry's kitchen and he knew where she kept all the stuff, that was indeed none of the Chief's business.

"I see you are feeling at home here, Lieutenant" Spiking couldn't help but say that with a bit of hidden sarcasm.

"And this is exactly what I told you to, Sir, when we arrived here" Harry immediately shot back. She was too good for this kind of the game and Spikings knew she gave as good as she got. Spikings flushed a bit with irritation - was he really supposed to have offered his help, while this damned Yank did so well? - and Harry took the pan off the fire. "OK, food is ready, take a seat, Dempsey, your stomach is crying already, I guess."

For a while they ate in a delighted silence.

"So, Harry" Spikings finished first "give us some food for our little grey cells now".

Dempsey grinned. "Little grey cells? Nice phrase, chief, I need to remember this one."

Spikings briefly closed his eyes. Harry twisted her mouth to cover the smile as she didn't think even for a while Dempsey had never heard about Poirot and his quotes. Especially that she had given him a set of Agatha Christie's books for Christmas. He never missed the opportunity to tease the Boss.

"Go on, Sergeant."

Harry sipped her wine.

"Well, nothing special in fact. The guy is a real womanizer and he's drooling when spotting a woman who attracts him, that's for sure. He impresses them with the vision of his money and power, with surprisingly good results. At this moment of course I couldn't find out if he has anything to do with drugs. Ah, and he invited me for dinner for Thursday."

"Thursday" Spikings frowned. "Why not tomorrow? Time is precious, Makepeace."

Harry smiled in the way that turned Dempsey's heart upside down. Half devil, half angel. Half queen, half nun.

"On purpose, Sir" she explained crookedly. "Waiting increases hunger."

Spikings coughed, a bit distracted.

Dempsey looked at Harry with an afterthought.

"Tell me Makepeace" he rubbed his chin, smiling slightly at her "how on earth this guy believed you leched over him? I saw him. He's a pig. A pig in an expensive tux, yet still a pig. How come he took for granted the girl like you found him attractive, huh?"

"Don't tell me you're so naive, Dempsey" she pouted. "I told you: money and power, power and money. Enough to blow his ego. The bigger ego than of anyone I know." A little sting, but he let it go.

"All right, money and power, I get it. But you are not a callow girlie who may be impressed by this. Are you sure he hasn't thought there was somethin' wrong?"

"He hasn't thought at all" she explained sweetly. "Well, perhaps he has... at the very beginning. The thing is, to show him what he can expect, and you got him."

When Dempsey realised what she might have meant, he felt a wave of unpleasant heat and needed to lose his bowtie. A second later he thought about what Sir Percy might have imagined in his big stupid head and he felt first tendrils of fury coming in. He caught the amused glance of Spikings, as if the old devil knew what was in Dempsey's mind and enjoyed it very much.

"OK" Spikings decided to have mercy on Dempsey's grumpy soul "not much, but at least we know where we stand. Dempsey, I assume you'll be in this restaurant on Thursday evening as well, so think of changing your look, our boy may remember you, though I think his mind were busy tonight, but you never know…"

Makepeace threw him a murder look.

"And a man alone in a fancy restaurant is also not a good idea, so take a girl with you" Spikings finished.

"A girl, what girl?" Dempsey's minds seemed elsewhere. He looked at the boss with a bit unconscious look.

"Well obviously none of the girls you are dating!" Spikings was losing his temper again. "I mean, someone from the force. Take Mona Hughes, for example."

"Yeah, and what else you want me to do?" Dempsey snorted.

"Leftenant, you are not going on a date, it's work. You are not supposed to invite a girl you fancy, but the one that may be helpful and knows you are underco…"

"I know what undercover work means!" Dempsey's temper was also a bit at an end. "OK, OK, I will tell," he emphasized the word 'tell' "Mona to go with me. If that's what we need. I'd prefer Rosa of the lab, but she'd likely be knitting all the evenin' long sittin' there with me... her grandchild or somethin' like that is goin' to be born soon."

"Her grandchild or something like that?" Makepeace repeated with interest, raising her eyebrows. "Then perhaps it will be a puppy, or a little lorry?"

"Might be, I haven't listened to her very carefully, that's true."

"Well, kids" Spikings stood up, trying not to yawn "if you don't mind, I'll wave a goodnight to you. Tomorrow I am expecting the report of tonight and a draft of your plans for the next two days. At noon."

"Impossible, Sir" Makepeace shook her head. "We need to be in the court at eleven. The Powell case is going to be finally closed and we are required to testify again. I guess we'll be back at about two."

"OK, then two o'clock, my office. And as you'll have time waiting for your turn in the court, you may prepare a very detailed report instead of sitting in the court canteen and drinking coffee. See you tomorrow… well, in fact, today."

Harry walked him to the door and when she returned to the kitchen, Dempsey was still sitting, staring at his glass with rather a dense look.

"Sometimes I wonder if it's his real face" he mumbled.

"What do you mean?" she didn't understand what he was talking about.

"Wooden… severe… gloomy… nervous… or it's only a mask and an armour he wears to keep us in his iron fist?"

"OK, whatever you have in mind" she sat opposite him. In the light of the lamp hanging low over the table he could see eight or nine little freckles on her nose, the little thing he always secretly loved, and always found pretty disarming.

 _I'd love to tell ya what I've had in mind tonight, really,_ he thought, standing up and reaching out his hand to take another bottle of wine off the shelf but suddenly he stopped. "Oh, you don' mind"? he said, a bit confused.

"That's fine" she nodded. "So what are you going to do with your look on Thursday? Spikings' right, Sir Percy may remember you. Well?"

"Dunno" he opened the bottle, his look focused on the corkscrew. "A moustache? A beard? It worked well, for Johnny Lupino and for this jeweller… Glass?"

"Johnny Lupino had no moustache, he had two dead mice under his nose" she took her glass of wine from his hands. "Obviously you hadn't asked a make-up artist for help; you looked a bit ridiculous."

"Oh really?" he bristled a bit. "And yet you didn't say a word."

"Forgive me, but those days I really had better… or rather, _worse_ things to think about than making your appearance more irresistible." In fact, it was now she found him having seemed ridiculous those days. When Dempsey had been found by Coltrane's people and had to pretend to be dead going into deep cover to save his life, posing as a lousy Yank Johnny Lupino, living in ratty hotels - she was too frightened then to think about rubbish like that.

"Yeah, so did I" he pointed out. He was sitting silent for a while. "Ouch, I don't know. I will ask Sayana to think of something."

Sayana was the police makeup artist who worked with them quite often; it was her who brilliantly had turned Dempsey into the seventy-five-year old Jewish jeweller, Mr Glass. DC Fry didn't even recognize him in the office!

"You know what, I could ask Sayana to go with me!" Dempsey said briskly. "She'll take care of my fake beard or a fake nose, or whateva, I'll have a good company and it's gonna be a nice evenin' after all."

"Oh, is it?" she snapped a bit more than she intended. "What's wrong with Mona Hughes then, she is _also_ pretty and intelligent?"

Dempsey shrugged.

"Mona is Mona, Sayana is Sayana. Why is it only you who's gonna have an exhilaratin' evenin' with the charming Parliament Prince of Dreams" he added with a bit of sarcasm.

She looked at him suspiciously, however a bit annoyed. Did he really think it was fun for her?!

"Are you jealous, Dempsey?" she asked casually, not believing in it even for a second.

"Maybe." Why she asked him such question, was she blind? With a sudden bravado, he took a deep breath. "Well, what if I am?"

She felt a sudden flutter in her stomach and couldn't refrain from the very quick look at him. What confused her most was he was deadly serious and looked at her with no trace of his usual smile in these hazel eyes. She averted her look and cleared her throat.

"For goodness sake, don't be ridiculous! Jealous of this pathetic guy? You'd better think of how to nail him." She stood up and started walking from the table to the kitchen counter and back - well, hopefully he couldn't notice she tried to hide her confusion caused by his unexpected answer. She looked at him again, a bit more calm. "Think, Dempsey! I am not suspecting he is really a bad guy but I have a feeling he knows something. Either, he is not aware of what he knows..."

He looked at her with real astonishment, but she didn't notice that. She didn't notice, either, that she had taken up the ridiculousness of him being jealous of Sir Percy, not of just him being jealous at all!

He really, really wanted to bring this on immediately but Harry seemed completely distracted and her thoughts miles away and he had a feeling she wouldn't follow at all, so he decided to leave the subject alone… or save it for later.

"Harry?"

Suddenly she felt a kind of fear of what he might ask.

"Er, yes?"

"Tell me, ya really don't mind this, bein'... sorry… bein' used like a pretty bait by Spikings?" he raised his eyes and seemed to be really interested in her answer, so she didn't shoot him down like she usually did when he was stupidly joking. "I just thought it may be… humiliating for a woman."

She looked at him, her eyes widened. He didn't use the word "humiliating" very often, especially with the word "woman".

"Are you asking seriously?"

"Like never before."

"OK, then" she sat back at the table and thought for a while. "I don't think about it as about being a pretty bait. It's more like using of my… skills."

"Skills."

"Yes. If we consider the physical attraction is a sort of a skill, well, not quite a skill, let's say a gift" Harry didn't see the reason to deny the obvious fact she _was_ attractive, she hated the false modesty "it seems quite different. It's like if Spikings had sent me to a swimming pool to resolve the case of murdering a lifeguard. I wouldn't mind that as I am a very good swimmer, so I would be the right person in there, and I could use my natural skills or if you prefer, gifts, in such a case."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"A very good swimmer? Didn't know that" he said with sudden interest.

"Well, you know we can use the Scotland Yard swimming pool every day, but I've never seen you there."

"Jeezas, Harry, it's at six thirty in the mornin'. I cannot tell the water from the air at that time of the day. Not everybody is so perfectly organized like you are."

"You'd be surprised, but I don't go there very often. Couple of times a month. But some of the guys… Chas, for example, he swims every other day. That's impressing. And the results are impressing, he's damn good. I think you haven't noticed he had the body of the swimmer?"

Dempsey moaned and rubbed his face with the back of his palm.

"Believe me Harry, if I am in the mood for eyeing the bodies in the office, I'd rather…"

"...I'd rather you didn't finish what you wanted to say" she advised and stood up with a sigh. "OK, shall we call it the day? In other words, would you mind going home, Dempsey? I need to get some sleep. And remember about the court at eleven."

He didn't make his common remark about joining her in bed, which surprised her again. Obviously he was a bit distracted tonight. Was it because of the undercover at the party? No, it was a ridiculous thought.

"OK," he stood up and made his way to the door "let's meet in the court then."

"That's eleven, what are you going to do in the morning?"

"I dunno, go to a pub?" he shrugged. "Nah, OK, I am going to visit Sayana and discuss Thursday with her. She may need time to change me to a Prince Alladdin of Kuwait, or somethin' like that. And you, of course, start in the office at eight, like a good obedient police girl, do ya?"

"Of course. I have paperwork to do" she pointed out. "Bye then. Make a safe way home."

"See ya, partner."

But Dempsey was not going home, at least not yet. He drove in the direction of Embankment, where despite the late hour of the warm summer night a crowd of tourists and Londoners filled the streets. He needed to walk a bit.

He always liked thinking when walking. And this night he had some important things and feelings to think over. Things and feelings that had absolutely nothing to do with his current job tasks.


	4. Chapter 4

_I am not satisfied with this chapter. Hopefully the next one will be better._

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

"I hope you like the place, Marion."

Harry turned her head and looked at the man. Sitting next to her on the sofa, he smiled at her with this warm, a bit shy smile. It was hard to believe he was likely thinking about how to drag her into his bedroom upstairs as soon as possible.

"Seems very nice" she answered, looking around. "I do like this style of the furniture."

"My grandfather had brought it from India when he had retired from the army. What would you like to drink, darling? We got the Veuve Cliquot here, is it fine?"

"Yes, please" Harry thought she'd give a hundred just to sit at the river bank at the very moment and even drink warm beer instead of being here, in this bloody country house in the forests, together with Mr Willing Fingers.

 _When during Thursday evening he had mentioned "the cottage" he shared with his nephew, she felt the little flutter of excitation_ _. She didn't even have to try hard to make him invite her for the weekend there. "I promise I will be of my best behaviour, Marion – I won't do anything improper". Translation to the common language – "I won't do anything you don't want me to, but I bear in mind you agreed to leave for the weekend with me…"_

 _Dempsey and Spikings didn't like the idea. A house in the forests? Where, exactly? Does she know the location? She'll need the support, how does she imagine that? Wouldn't it be safer to meet the guy somewhere in the city? If this place has something to do with any crime or something Rathbone wouldn't take her there, would he?_

" _Sir" Harry was sustaining her opinion "there's no worry. I can always demand from him to take me back to London. He is a gentleman, he'd be furious and disappointed but he'd do what I ask him for. But that's a good opportunity to check this place. The lonely house far from town is in my opinion quite proper place for an illegal business. If there is any illegal business, because I have a feeling Sir Percy has no idea about the correct spelling of the word 'drugs', let alone dealing it."_

" _He really put his spell on ya, didn't he?" Dempsey snapped. "What a nice guy he is!"_

" _He's stupid, he's crazy for skirts but he's good-hearted" Harry answered it very calmly, not wanting to be involved in any argument this time. "Being a player is not a crime, Dempsey, which I think must be a comfortable thought for you yourself."_

 _He gave her a long look._

" _Bein' a player is a kind of art, bein' a nebbish stud is a misery" he said scornfully and rather casually and immediately returned to the topic. "How can you be so sure he won't any harm to you? He is like a tank, when he speeds up he'll just gun you down and roll over you. And you had had this kinda fight in the past already, the guy had been half of his weight and yet you wouldn't have made it if I hadn't been hiding in the wardrobe."_

" _Yeah, while you'd been supposed to hide in the bathroom!" Harry remembered ice-cold eyes of the handsome guy she had had to "seduce" that evening three years ago, his merciless touch, his demanding hands on her lingerie… And the bastard Dempsey had hidden in the wardrobe "to have a better view"! When he explained it to her with the innocent smile, it made her mad and it was the first - and so far the last - time she slapped him in the face. Served him right._

" _I wonder how you'd've managed that if I'd been in the bathroom instead!"_

" _Back to the current case please!" Spikings yelled to stop them arguing again. Dempsey knew of course it was his frustration of Sir Percy that made him to nitpick in the details of one of their first cases together but he just needed to let off some steam._

 _At last, it was agreed with Spikings that Dempsey and Fry would be there for her – "you need to be invisible, you both, and inaudible, but you need to check the place AND look for Harry's safety. I don't know how you are going to do that, but I am pretty sure you will manage."_

Harry had no doubt they would, either. Dempsey's skills were indisputable, and Fry was absolutely great being silent and fast in action. He told her once he had spent his childhood in a forester's lodge as his father was a forester and taught the little Fry to live with the nature. _"I am like Mowgli in the jungle, you know, Harry."_

Now she was sitting in the posh, classy living room of a very beautiful country house which, although a small one, couldn't be called "the cottage", with huge windows and the well maintained garden outside, and with the man giving her a flute of champagne.

"Cheers, Marion" he raised his glass, sitting down beside her. "By the way, you have a very beautiful, original name."

 _Well that's great, let's hope the bloody Robin Hood will make it on time,_ went through Harry's mind. She quickly glanced through the window, but of course there was no sign of any human being presence outside. She smiled at Sir Percy and crossed her legs, exposed quite tantalizingly under the blue, pencil skirt.

"You said you shared this place with your… cousin, didn't you?"

* * *

"Do you see somethin', Fry?" Dempsey hissed. He's been squatting in a bush for some time and this was bloody uncomfortable, and a twig was prickling his ear. "Don't stand up, just tell me whatya see from here"

"Nothing, completely nothing" Fry whispered back. He poked his head out of greenery and looked carefully around. "I guess they're both still in the house. The light is on."

"I hope it's on" Dempsey growled. "OK dude, let's move from here, to the rear of the house. See that tree by the kitchen door? We'll stop there, and then - straight to the wall."

They flitted quietly towards the building, like two armed, black-dressed ghosts. Dempsey knew from the sportive grin on Fry's face that the boy really enjoyed the action. It made him angry a bit, the stupid brat didn't think about Harry's situation at all. Well of course she wasn't in real danger, but anyway, that was not pleasant for her, for sure. The old goat was probably snorting with steam already. What if he just throws himself on her? Dempsey thought he would just kill him if he did.

"Fry" he whispered again "check the shed."

"The shed?"

"There" Dempsey indicated with his chin the small building standing among the trees, about twenty feet away from the kitchen entrance. "See? The door is open. Check the inside."

Fry gave him a doubtful look.

"You think it's a shed? Looks rather like a huge doll house or something. For kids, you know"

"Sweet Jesus… OK, check the doll house or something then. And ya see it's a shed."

While Fry disappeared behind the ajar door of the disputable house, Dempsey sneaked towards the kitchen entrance of the cottage. Carefully he pushed his back against the wall and stuck his head trying to see anything inside through the small glass windows in the door. But there was nothing and no one, just a pale reflect of the lamps switched in the living room. And then he heard something – a slow, ripping sound of the violin music.

 _Well hope it's a cassette, not Percy-Schmercy himself,_ Dempsey thought and suddenly, although he was not in the fancy mood, he felt like bursting into a nervous laughter. His imagination pictured a portly figure of Rathbone, standing in front of Harry, curving himself in the pose of the spirited Paganini and ripping the violin chords without mercy and completely out of tune. Dempsey had to stick his fist into his mouth not to laugh, and Fry was a bit surprised, when he crept up back to his senior officer and saw him grinning from ear to ear.

"What?!" Fry whispered, astounded.

"Nothing. Nothing. So, what did'ya find in there?"

"It's a shed."

"Well, what d'ya know" Dempsey mocked.

"But" Fry was now gasping with excitement "I have noticed something else. A kind of basement of the main house, just round the corner, four steps down and a door, there. And there's quite big padlock on the door."

"A padlock? Well, well, well. Let's see it. Probably our subject keeps the jars of peach marmalade in there. I bet he loves feedin' himself. Come on, boy" and Dempsey slipped towards the corner of the house, still keeping himself close to the wall. Fry followed him.

The padlock was big indeed. Too big for just the door of a kind of a basement closet.

"Are you going to unlock it?" Fry asked.

"Of course I am, what dya think? But of course I am not gonna get in through the main entrance and ask the guy for a key."

"How are you going to do it then, you want to shoot it through?"

"Fry. Spare me that, please. No, I don't." Dempsey took something out of his trousers pocket and for a while he tampered with the padlock carefully. Fry was standing near, goggling over his shoulder but couldn't see anything. Suddenly a loud "click!" was heard and Dempsey turned to Fry, with the unlocked padlock in his hand.

"This is a very useful skill, Fry boy" he grinned. "But don't overuse that, remember, some people don't like that. I could tell you few stories…"

Dempsey carefully reached for the door handle and yanked it slowly. The door was cracked open. They both slipped into a small mudroom. Another door with just two bolts, one under another. Dempsey frowned. Why such precaution? It must have been just a kind of a utility room, nothing more?

Holding his gun in the right hand, he quietly unbolted the door and push it. It opened with a squeak.

The room behind the door was rather small and lighted very poorly as there was only one small window under the ceiling, but Dempsey saw immediately what was in there, and stood speechless. Fry looked out over his shoulder and gasped.

"Holy shit!"

* * *

Sir Percy Rathbone was sitting much too close to her now.

She tried to think coldblooded but it began to seem unambiguously. He was going to get his reward. It was easy to see what he was thinking about. Thank god he wasn't too pushy, but anyway. Early dinner on their way to here, in a nice country restaurant, now few drinks and… where the hell were Dempsey and Fry? She has already had to cool down the elder man a bit, but for how long?

"So, Marion" Sir Percy leaned forward to her, his hand on her knee, squeezing it a little "would you like to have a look at the rest of the house? I'll show you your room."

 _OK, if boys don't appear I'll need to knock him out,_ she decided. _One quick kick would do._

"May I have the glass of water first?" she smiled, standing up. He stood up as well, looking her deeply in the eyes.

"Of course, my dear lady" he brought her hand up, kissing her fingers.

How on earth Dempsey suddenly appeared behind his back, she didn't know. As if using a Star Trek transporter he just materialized there but much faster than Mr Spock would ever do; he hooked Rathbone's neck with his arm tightly. Rathbone spluttered desperately, more of fear than of the squeeze. His eyes popped, face turn red.

"Haven't you had enough, you old kink?" Dempsey hissed into his ear, then he squeezed a bit more. Harry noticed the fury and anger on his face, much too big under these circumstances.

"Dempsey, let him go" she yelled, catching his arm. "You'll strangle him!"

"That would be the best solution" he snarled, but released his iron grip and pushed Rathbone against the sofa. Sir Percy fell down on it, his eyes were filled with the animal fear. And then he started to scream in a high voice, covering his face with his palms:

"Please, no! No! Do me no harm! Please!"

Before Harry realised what was happening to him, he jumped off the sofa and almost immediately fell down on his knees in front of both of them.

"You can take what you want! I swear I won't tell the police. I swear. Please…" he was babbling, drooling and red-faced, his eyes on stalks.

"What?!" Dempsey exclaimed. "Makepeace, do you see what this filthy idiot is taking us for? Ah you old…"

 _Well what else the hell have you expected after such entry, you idiot?!_

"Sir Percy" Harry tried to pour oil on trouble waters. "Sir Percy." No result. "Will you listen to me!" she shouted, catching his arm and shaking abruptly. Finally he looked up at her. "Sir Percy, we are the police. I am DS Makepeace, and this is Lieutenant Dempsey, SI-10. I am afraid we have some questions…"

"He should be afraid, not you" Dempsey wiped his face. "You old perv, tell me, why d'ya need to fuck the city broads – the stuff you got here repels you or what, huh?"

His frustration was so big she suddenly realised it had nothing to do with Sir Percy's pathetic advances on her. There was something really wrong here. She put her hand on Dempsey shoulder, trying to calm him down a bit. "Will you tell me what is going on here and why you are acting like Rambo?" she asked quietly, but with the very familiar, angry twinkle in her eyes.

He told her…

* * *

There were five of them. All aged perhaps sixteen, seventeen. All with dark skin and black hair, all in the ragged dresses and very dirty. They hustled all together on a narrow mattress lying on the ground in the corner of the room. The other two dirty mattresses were propped up against the wall. The girls were looking at Harry with widened, frightened eyes.

"I don't believe it" Harry leaned against the wall outside, next to Dempsey. She was staring straight ahead without a thought. Fry was in the house, keeping his eye on Rathbone ( _"and believe me Fry, if this reptile makes one step forward, you'll land in the traffic squad before you're able to say 'Spikings', you understand?"_ ). Dempsey took a cigar out of his pocket.

"When will Spikings be here?" she asked.

"He's on his way already, by helicopter. Local police will pick'em up from a landing spot two miles away."

"And the doctors?"

"Soon."

"I don't believe it." Harry said again.

"Yeah, you'd better do. Things like that happen all the time" he said with bitterness in his voice.

"No Dempsey, you don't get it. I don't believe Sir Percy has anything to do with this shit."

"What?! Makepeace, pull yourself together, babe. I understand he is your Prince Charming but…"

"It may be hard for you to believe, Dempsey, but I am not that desperate" she shot back. He couldn't hold his amused grin while she continued "For goodness sake, stop telling these nonsenses. And do you really think he'd be that stupid? Bringing his lassies here, to this place?"

"Yeah, why not? They don't have to know about the second nature of this place. You wouldn't, would you?"

She knew it would be difficult to convince him, especially because of how he had reacted on Rathbone, but her intuition was telling her she was right.

Few minutes ago Harry had tried to talk a bit to the girls but without brilliant results. Girls were in shock and none of them spoke English, except the word "please". Only one of them spoke French a bit, but it was at the very poor level and the girl didn't even understand any of the questions Harry tried to ask. The only one thing she knew was they were from Yugoslavia.

She had brought them bottles of water and with smile and hands gesture tried to show them they were safe now. She left the closet leaving the door wide open.

"OK, I'll go and check upon him" she sighed. "He didn't look good after you had appeared there out of the blue, playing Zorro… By the way, you think he really took us for burglars in disguise or something like that?"

"Oh yeah" he brightened with the broad smile. "The fantastic gang: the lady and the Yank! Lady Makepeace, the capo of tutti capi in London underground world! I tell ya Harry, this was the funniest thing I've heard today!"

"Not funny at all, Dempsey".

* * *

Sir Percy was sitting on the sofa with the glass of water in his hand. He rested his head on his hand and closed his eyes. He breathed heavily, his face was pale. Fry was standing in the corner of the living room, keeping his eyes on the man.

"Fry" Harry spoke quietly "go to Dempsey for orders. I think we can expect our boys soon, there's much to do there."

Fry looked with hesitation. "Dempsey told me not to…"

"I know" Harry cut in impatiently "don't worry, I'll stay here and you'll be more helpful outside."

"But Dempsey…"

"Constable."

This single word turned into an ice cube and Fry slipped out at the lightning speed.

"Are you all right, Sir Percy?" she asked, sitting down in the armchair next to the sofa.

"Are you really a policewoman, Marion?" was the quiet answer.

"Actually, it's Harriet. Yes, I am."

"Harriet… What a fool I was…"

She didn't know what he referred to; his potential involvement in this crime, or just his belief in her interest in him… She couldn't ask; now he was a suspect and she was the police officer on duty. But she felt sorry and couldn't help that. Pathetic old fool, indeed.

"Harriet" he whispered hoarsely "believe me, I didn't know about it. You must believe me, I have nothing to do with this dirty business. You must believe me, please tell me you do!"

"I cannot talk to you about it now, I am sorry, sir. The investigation…"

"The investigation" he repeated bitterly. "Of course."

They were sitting in silence.

About half an hour later, the voices were heard from outside, approaching quickly, and there was Spikings standing at the door, with Chas and Dave next to him, calm and serious.


	5. Chapter 5

_Here comes the Chapter Five. There were a lot of updates on the DM page these days, many new chapters of all the thrilling stories and I'll start reading them all this weekend - I hope you'll find the time to R &R my little one as well :)_

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

The night was incredibly hot. Harry wriggled on the narrow bed, trying to fall asleep. It was nearly impossible; the air wasn't moving at all and the open window didn't help. The wooden house was like an oven.

Gosh, it would be so nice to be at home now, to soak in a bath, drink a glass of chilled white wine, and then go to bed and sleep soundly till the Sunday morning light. But the case had kept them in that crazy place.

Well, if only it was that crazy one! Unfortunately they couldn't spend the night in the crime place. The local police had offered them a wooden house in the forest, about a mile away from the Rathbones' property. The house was, let's say, rather poor. With one living room, small simple bathroom and a kind of the kitchen area downstairs, and two bedroom upstairs, it was likely to be good enough for horny teenagers to spend a weekend here, but six deadly tired policemen did not feel much enthusiasm.

Spiking had offered Harry one of the bedrooms upstairs and took another one. Dempsey, Chas, Fry and Dave needed to share the stuffy living room together. Constable Waterspoon of the local police had provided them with sleeping bags from the police station, and some toiletries, having gone back to the village, getting the owner of a chemist's shop on his feet and demanding five razors, soap, toothpaste and paper towels. Sadly, he forgot about the toothbrushes.

Harry was lucky anyway; Dempsey and Fry had arrived from London in her car as Dempsey had decided, quite right, that his Merc was a bit too distinctive. And her bag was in the boot, the bag with clothes change, an unpacked toothbrush and cosmetics Harry kept always just in case like that. At least she knew she would be able to dress in the clean fresh clothes in the morning, unlike the boys.

They had finished working at the Rathbones' after midnight and were exhausted. Five Yugoslavian girls were taken to the local hospital and Sir Percy – to the home arrest in London. They were to face another working day on Sunday, with the interrogations of people living in the village and working for the Rathbones and Spikings himself was supposed to return to London to interrogate the suspect.

Harry sighed and sat up on the bed. God, it was insufferable. Hot night, the stuffy room in the attic, the unpleasant smell of mould, and as if this wasn't bad enough, bloody Spikings in the next room was snoring like a snotty hippo! _"I need to get out of here for a moment or I'll get crazy"_ , she thought.

She put the fresh sleeveless blouse and slacks on and quietly padded barefoot downstairs. In the darkness of the living room she hardly saw the sleeping bodies of her colleagues lying on the sleeping bags, when she was weaving among them towards the front door. All guys seemed to sleep soundly. How did they do that? The downstairs room was as stuffy as the upstairs one. The male species seemed just to have an on/off sleeping button.

She pushed the door and went outside. Oh dear God, what a nice fresh air. She breathed deeply for a long while.

The house had a small porch and four stairs down to the path leading to something that might have been a garden quite a few years ago. Harry walked down the path and stopped in the middle of the garden, enjoying the silence and smell of wild flowers.

And the stars. She never saw so many stars in the London sky.

The trees were rustling, some night birds were twittering deep down in the forest, the moon was shining and this night world seemed so quiet, unmitigated and perfect. And yet, and yet – just a mile away from here five girls had experienced horrible things from people, in fear, humiliation and despair.

Harry decided to sit for a while on the porch stairs, and then, perhaps she could carry down the pillow and the duvet from her bedroom and sleep a bit outside?

Sitting down, she rested her chin on her clasped hands and stared ahead, lost in her thoughts. The flashbacks of this unpleasant day were returning to her constantly. Sir Percy, furious Dempsey, the faces of the girls in the basement, Spikings, the doctors coming… All the pictures were still running through her head, over and over again.

"Talking to the moon, Tiger?"

Of course she didn't hear him come. Now he sat down next to her, on the step above her.

"Can't sleep?"

"Yes. Spikings is horribly snoring."

"Awww Harry, I thought you both were sleepin' in separate bedrooms".

"Yes, very funny, Dempsey. The inner walls of this… hovel are made of paper, I guess. I think I'd rather put up a tent in the garden!"

"Well I'd join you in there" he grinned.

"Well I bet at least you would try to."

For a moment they were sitting in silence.

"At least the girls are sleeping, or lying, in hospital beds, they are safe" Harry said what was on her mind.

"Yup. And the old bastard is locked in his house" Dempsey agreed. "Everyone has got what they had deserved, but why haven't we? I've slept in better places than that. Even that bloody abandoned car at the garbage dump we slept in once was much better, remember? More fresh air, anyway."

"Yes, but the smell was quite similar" she sighed without a trace of humour.

"Something's eatin' you, Princess" it was not even a question, just a statement.

She was silent for a while. "Them, the girls" she said, finally. "I still see their faces. They should be at their homes now. Sitting together at hot Saturday night, in a garden like that, talking and giggling innocently about boys and kisses, secretly drinking wine stolen from their moms… You know what, I am feeling so… so… powerless facing things like that, I even doubt this job has any sense…"

He felt tension in her body. She really was upset. And helplessly angry. He wanted to reassure her, to tell her something to make her hope she's doing right.

"Don't even think like that" he spoke quietly.

"Well it's hard not to! But perhaps it's hard for you to understand it, as you are such a tough rugged cop..."

"Don't go this way, Harry, it's not my fault we saw what we saw today."

She felt ashamed. "I am sorry" she mumbled "I am a bit… not myself tonight."

He moved a bit closer to her.

"Tough cops have soft moments, too. Wanna hear a story?"

"Why do I have a feeling this won't be a nice fluffy one? Go on then" she decided, seeing the complete seriousness on his face.

He looked at her, sighed deeply, looked ahead, then he put his arm around her shoulders.

"I was a rookie then, just promoted to my first unit as a detective" he began calmly "we were sent to a place like that. I mean, not a posh country house - on contrary, it was an empty store in the dockyards. Our informants told us some girls were kept there. I went there with Chris who was my mate and was promoted with me, and two or three elder guys." He stopped for a moment, then sighed again with resignation.

"It was a real dump" he continued after a while "ya know, that basement here is like a palace compared to that one. Dirt, darkness and ragged blankets on the floor, rats and a dozen of South American girls. Aged ten, twelve."

Harry looked at him, deeply shocked. She was sure she misunderstood.

"Ten, twelve" he repeated very quietly; the common twinkle of humour disappeared from his eyes. "Later we found out one of them was eight."

"Jesus, no" she swallowed hard.

"Yeah." He stopped talking for a moment and she felt the worst was yet to come.

"When we were there, lightin' everything around with our torches, the girls stood in the middle, all together, looking at us with fear. They were cryin', they were stepping backwards; they didn't know we were cops, anyway for them there was no difference. We were just men, other men who came over to hurt them. And then" his voice quivered a bit "one of the girls, such a small one, walked up to us very, very cautiously. She was shaking all over, she was sobbing and couldn't catch her breath, so much frightened she was. And she, she smiled seductively… Jeezas, Harry, she tried to be seductive, ya get it?… and through all this sobbin' and shakin' and tears she asked us, still smilin': 'men for me? Men for me?' She started stroking my thighs and my butt and cuddling up to me **,** rubbing against me, still smiling, she sobbed repeating 'men for me?'" his voice suddenly trembled and he fell silent.

Harry buried her face in her hands. What she just heard was dreadful but much more dreadful was how Dempsey was still devastated telling her that. Without looking at him, she reached her hand and found his, squeezing it with sympathy.

"Chris, my mate, started crying like a kid" he continued, still very quietly. "I was standing like a tailor's dummy, completely dumb, until they took her away from me."

"You know what happened to them then?" she asked quietly, still not raising her head. He shrugged.

"I guess they were deported back to their lovely countries, where the people, who had done it to them, still lived. That's life." His voice was so bitter! She squeezed his hand again.

Somehow, their fingers intertwined.

"Chris decided to quit the force" he continued "said that was too much for him. He's been having a bar in Brooklyn since then" he smiled again for a moment, corners of his eyes crinkled a bit. "For years I used to go there every month for late drinks and tell him dark cop stories, just to make him sure his decision had been right that day. But it hadn't, I think. He had surrendered too easy. What I am tryin' to say Harry is" he rubbed her hand with his thumb "our job has sense, there are shitty things in this world but as long as there are guys like you, me, our beloved Spikings or Chas, I ain't afraid of the shitty things."

They were sitting now in silence, enjoying the moment of untypical closeness. Harry realised they still held hands and his thumb was still slowly rubbing her palm, but somehow she didn't care. It was quite… nice?... relaxing?... right?...

Dempsey, of course, had been aware of this all the time and had absolutely no intention to change the pleasant status however he knew he couldn't push his luck keeping it for too long. But it was so… lovely?... delightful?... exhilarating?...

He looked at her; she was sitting looking down, quiet.

How would she react if he kissed now that tempting place, the nape of her neck? What would she do if he just put his mouth on there for a long, long wonderful while?

Well, probably there would be no chance for a "long, long wonderful while" then, she'd rather be quick and crisp to tell him what she thought.

"OK, I am going back to sleep" he said, slightly stroking her shoulder. She raised her head and looked at him. "Guess I see you in the morning, then?" He smiled and leaned forward a little.

Their eyes locked and for the briefest of the moments, she thought in panic he was going to kiss her and instinctively she held her breath. But he only smiled again lazily and stood up.

"Don't sit here for too long, Tiger" he said, turning back to the door. "Werewolves are hunting this time of the night."

He vanished in the darkness of the house silently, as if he was a ghost. She stared after him for a while realizing somehow she felt... disappointed. And already missing the moment of their closeness.

This was a dangerous feeling that both frightened and delighted her.

* * *

Only two people living in the village nearby worked for the Rathbones: the gardener and the maid. Both worked only part-time, from March to September and of course neither of them had noticed anything.

"I am supposed to visit the house every Tuesday and clean it after a weekend" Mrs Hornsby, a dignified woman at the age of sixty looked at Fry and Chas with a kind of animosity as if they completely ruined her Sunday. "Sometimes there's a lot to clean, but sometimes no one comes for the weekend so I just need to wipe the dust off, and that's all".

"And how about preparing the house for the special occasions, a party for example?" Chas asked.

"Prior to any party, Mister Ralph sends their staff from London: the maids and the cook to prepare everything. And a waitress, as I can recall. I am not allowed to be there then."

"And you" Chas coughed "never noticed anything… strange?"

"What should I have noticed? It's just a house."

"You never tried to look around, to peek in the shed, in the basement?"

"No, sir. I just come there, do my job and leave. I don't have time for looking around."

* * *

"Mr Black" Harry smiled encouragingly, but the old man remained face stoned "how long have you been working for the Rathbone family?"

"Well, madam, think it's about four years."

"And tell us about your schedule, please. What exactly do you do in there? And how often you visit the place?"

"Every other Tuesday. And what do I do? I am the gardener, Miss. I trim the hedge. I comb the lawns. I pick the leaves. I plant the flowers, that's in spring. I maintain the paths. That's all."

Dempsey nodded a bit.

"Listen, ya movin' aroun' the garden all the time, ya never wanted to check anythin', just outta curiosity? To explore the house when you're there, to look inside the locked rooms, like the basement?"

The look of the old gardener said exactly what he thought about the weird Yanks working for Her Majesty's Force.

"No. Why should I? I do my job, that's all". He noticed Dempsey's incredulous look and leaned forward a bit. "Listen, Inspector. I am nearly seventy, I had been a miner, now I am a gardener, the common old story in this country. It's not easy to get a job these days, and I want to keep mine as long as I can. The snoopy Hornsby work at this property exactly the same days as I do; if I did anything that is not my task she'd split on me to the Rathbones and they'd fire me. I have a wife and two orphaned grandchildren to care for. I can't risk losing my job 'cause out of a stupid curiosity. I do my job, all the things I need are in the garden shed. If there is something wrong about this family I don't know it and moreover I don't want to know. So leave us alone here, I've said everything."

Dempsey opened his mouth to say something but Harry bit him to it.

"Well then, thank you, Mr Black" she said politely and put her visit card on the table in front of the old man. "I hope not to disturb you anymore but in case you recall something, please call me, much appreciated" she smiled and rose up, making her way to the door. Dempsey followed her, giving the guy the last long look.

Walking towards the gate they were passed by two boys running to the house yelling: "Grandpa! Grandpa! Kimmy Ward has shown us her underpants!"

"Let's hope Kimmy's rather six than sixty years old" Dempsey snorted out with laughter.

They walked to the small square in the middle of the village; Chas and Fry were already waiting for them there, sitting on the bonnet of Harry's car. They all exchanged the looks.

"So we are as blind as we were at the beginning" Harry concluded.

"The famous English reserve. The three Rathbone's monkeys: see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil" Dempsey hit the car bonnet with his fist.

"Don't tell me same monkeys don't live in America, Dempsey."

"OK, let's have lunch in the pub here and go back to the house, we still have some work to do" Chas suggested.

After a surprisingly good lunch they went back to the car.

"Nice place, isn't it?" Chas was looking around. "I like villages like that. I think I could live here. A nice cottage, a rose garden, a swing…"

"Time to settle down, Chas?" Makepeace smiled at her colleague. "A swing, kids, a dog and two cats?"

"May be. May be" Chas smiled back and she wondered for a while if he planned to propose to Mona, or maybe he already had? They haven't talked much in private but she had a feeling Chas did wanted to settle down. How old was he? Around forty, for sure. Some guys at this age think this is the final call for them… some don't and some never will – she looked with annoyance at her partner who was patting the car door impatiently.

"Are you two coming? We got a work to do!"

"Would you mind stopping doing holes in my car, Dempsey?" Harry sat down at the passenger seat. "Otherwise next time I will dance on the bonnet of yours with my high heels on."

"Whoa!" Fry yelled in delight. "Would you do that, Harry?" Since she had asked him to call her by her first name, he added "Harry" to nearly every sentence addressed to her.

"I seriously consider that, Fry. I seriously do."

* * *

At four o'clock they all were pretty exhausted and sat down in the garden, under the tree, for the briefing. Dempsey lay down on the grass, with the straw between his teeth and hands resting under his head.

"What?" he asked innocently on sight of Harry's reproachful look. "My Sunday was ruined by the job. So I wanna have as much fun here as I can. Wanna lie down with me here?"

"No, thanks" Harry opened her notebook. "So. Chas, your Mrs… Hornsby? Confirmed she had seen nothing suspicious while having worked here. Neither had the gardener, Mr Black. Most of the staff working in this house come from London when required, together with Sir Percy Rathbone, or rather, more often, with his nephew, Ralph, who spends much more weekends here than his uncle does."

"Guess he's more handsome and picks the chicks at ease so he has more opportunity to play along with them" Dempsey said with sarcasm. Fry chuckled.

"Third person who appears here from time to time is" Harry looked at her notes "Miss Rowena Phelps, Ralph's cousin, a furniture designer. Chas, you were talking to Spikings and he had already interrogated Sir Percy and Ralph Rathbone was called to return to his home in London immediately."

"And he was surely informed about our invasion here" Chas added.

"Oh, I don't doubt it" Harry agreed. "Then, the forensics collected the fingerprints from the basement. We will have results tomorrow in the afternoon. All girls are in the hospital in Hastings. It is not possible to talk to them within next forty eight hours, the doctors say."

Dempsey nodded impatiently.

"While time's precious and we need information from them" he murmured but without anger.

"We do. We do, but we cannot do anything about it for a moment, sorry." She closed her notebook. "So? Let's make our plans for the next days and let's go back home, at least for a nice Sunday evening."

Fifteen minutes later they started to pick up their things, getting ready for the departure. Dempsey went somewhere and came back after a while.

"Well, I must say, it's a nice place, when you are about to leave" he winked at Harry who was fishing her bag in search for the pen top, and then he looked around. "Fry! Here, have the keys and drive Sergeant's car back to London. Park it at the SI-10. And remember I'll check the mileage, so don't think about taking Jane from the pub for a nice evenin' ride."

"Right!" Fry beamed with joy and caught the keys Dempsey threw him. Harry look a bit angry, but also curious.

"Why are you asking Fry to drive my car to London, Dempsey? Are you going to stay here in this dump?" she asked coldly. "Have a nice evening then but I am leaving with Fry."

"No."

"No, you are not going to stay here, or no, you're _thinking_ I am not leaving?"

"I just thought we could watch the new Bond tonight at last."

"Could we? And how are you going to manage it without a car? Walking back to London on foot and telling me old stories from Fleming's books?"

He looked away from her to the spot on the lawn where the police helicopter stood, and then looked back at her, innocently raising the eyebrow in the silent question. Harry gasped.

"No way!"

"Why? The pilot has agreed to take us."

"I am not flying with you, don't even dream about it" she folded her arms defensively.

"Relax babe, this time I am not the pilot and I have no reason to jump out so you'll be safe."

"Dempsey, if there is one thing I had learnt about you and any flying stuff it's never trust Dempsey if it's about a flying stuff!"

"Come one, Harry, let's have fun! Besides, it's convenient. We'll be in London in twenty minutes, and we'll have time to change and perhaps even to snack something before the movie."

"Ough, why do I always agree on such madness" she mumbled under her nose, following him towards the aircraft. She only hoped he wouldn't ask the pilot to land at Camberwell Grove - her neighbours would never forgive her such _faux-pas_.


	6. Chapter 6

_I have changed the cover image for this story - I found the best one ever, I think :)_

 _There may be delays in publishing next few chapters, I'll have busy time at work prior to my vacation and then I am leaving to swim in the warm Adriatic Sea - but we'll see. Enjoy and R &R please!_

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

Rowena Phelps, the furniture designer, was a tall slim brunette with pale skin and dark cold eyes. She seemed to be really annoyed being disturbed at work.

"Well, I visit the house from time to time, usually with Ralph and some friends of mine" she was sitting in a horse-shaped armchair made of black iron. All pieces of furniture in her studio looked very strange and Dempsey, asking the questions, was walking and watching the stuff with a mild curiosity. Harry was sitting opposite Rowena, on a giraffe-looking stool and felt totally stupid. She couldn't even cross her legs and felt like a schoolgirl called on the carpet. Besides, although Rowena seemed to treat them like some intrusive insects, she was obviously focused on Dempsey – even when answering Harry's questions, she was talking to him. It got on Harry's nerves and she really wanted to shout "hey you, I am also here!" "However" Rowena continued "last time I had been there was in February and I have no idea who visited the place afterwards. I'm rather busy with my new projects and I haven't left London for ages."

Dempsey lifted a tiny chair with incredibly thin legs and looked at it incredulously.

"Do you like it, Inspector?" Rowena asked obstreperously. "Perhaps it would look good in your… living room?"

Harry would bet she intended to say "bedroom" and she changed the end of the sentence on purpose.

"I am Lieutenant" Dempsey put the chair down back onto the floor and sat on the window sill, smiling at Rowena lazily. "Not Inspector. I was wonderin' anyone can sit on it without breaking its legs."

"It is designed for two hundred and twenty pounds" Rowena replied coldly.

"What, the price?"

"The weight" she smiled indulgently. "I didn't know there were any lieutenants in the British Police."

"As a matter of fact, there's only one. Me."

"I have noticed you're not British, why do you work here? You have the English family, English wife?" Rowena's eyes glossed over Harry with disdain and returned to James.

Harry felt furious. "I am sorry, Miss Phelps, but it seems to be irrelevant at the moment. Could we return to the subject?"

* * *

"Whoa, what a cold minx" Dempsey twiddled the visit card in his fingers _("if you like to see more of my projects, or to buy something, Lieutenant, please call me any time…"_ ). "I have noticed mixed signals, Harry."

"So have I" she chimed with the sweetest irony. " ' _Get out from here, you lousy rozzers'_ mixed with ' _would you like to see my… other pieces of furniture, Lieutenant, namely bed?'_ " with a smirk she fluttered her eyelashes at him and grimaced, tilting her head a bit. "If only you were alone there… However, if her bed looks like the other pieces, it would be a bit uncomfortable, I guess."

"Don't spend the loads of your irony on such a small detail, Makepeace, and don't worry about my comfort, I wouldn't accept the offer anyway."

"Oh, wouldn't you?"

"Yup, ya know, it's too early."

She gave him a fuming look, but he continued with amusement: " 'sides, she's far too much boney. I might see no difference between her and this crazy chair. These furniture looked like starving animals sufferin' from polio, dontcha think? By the way how did you know she was hot on me? I felt it with my male instinct, but you?"

"Body language." She started fishing her bag for the car keys.

"Body language? What body language?"

"Well, obviously not mine!" she was burrowing the bag with growing irritation. "It was so apparent. She seemed to be cold but mirrored your movements, played with hair… dilated pupils… lips parted." She was aware of the fact he was looking at her with raising interest. "You also saw it, but what you call the male instinct, I call the subliminal observation. Ugh, where the hell are the damn keys!"

"Harry."

"Shame she knows you are a policeman, otherwise we could use you this time, to get some information… What?"

The keys dangled from Dempsey's hand in front of her nose. "I drove to here, remember?"

"Oops." She grabbed the keys and walked towards the car.

"So, the body language?" he took up the topic. "Interesting. And what's your body sayin' now, Makepeace?" He took a step back and deliberately started eyeing her up and down. He never missed an opportunity to do that.

"Don't you see? It's saying we'll be late for the afternoon briefing and Spikings will bite our heads off. Is it interesting enough?" she snarled.

"How about lunch? I am starving" he moaned, following her.

"You've been starving twenty four seven since I know you, Dempsey" at the sight of his long face she softened a bit. "OK, I'll treat you to lunch in the canteen but after the briefing. After all you paid for the dinner yesterday" she smiled, remembering the evening with the new Bond and the dinner afterwards.

Harry was going to open the driver's side car door but suddenly he grasped her shoulders from behind and pushed her slightly against the door, making her unable to move back or forth. "Hey" his breath tickled her neck "I've paid for the nice dinner in the nice restaurant last nice evenin' and you wanna just buy me lunch in our canteen in return? That's unfair, Lady Harriet" he whispered to her ear. His hands slid down to her waist.

"And what the hell are you doing now?" she snapped, turning her head a fraction and trying to glare at him. Unfortunately it didn't impress him at all, he didn't lose his grip and her gaze met his laughing, warm eyes.

"Just checking your body… language". The touch of his hands was quite nice… well, to be honest Harry's skin tingled, she felt the sudden wave of the heat flowing through her body and a shiver going down her spine – _what the hell, why now?! -_ it was not just 'quite nice', it was very nice! and Harry nearly gasped. _Did he notice her reaction? Of course he did…_ She got a grip after a while and then felt almost sorry for what she was going to do. Looking at him, she smiled sweetly, noticing sudden amazement in his eyes, and then pinched his forearm.

"Ouch! What was that for?!" he moaned but – he didn't release her.

"For antics, for showing off in public. Will you let me go?" she looked at her watch.

"Ah, in public? Do I take it right that if we were in private…" suddenly she wasn't sure anymore he was still joking. His voice got a bit lower, she felt his body pressing against hers and his fingers touching her waist and again she felt strangely uncertain. She took a deep breath.

"Dempsey, let me go now or I'll practise my self-defence skills on the nearest person around which by pure coincidence happens to be you. And it won't be nice. Buzz off and get into the car now! I am driving. We are late" she added, unusually softly.

The tension broke.

"All right, all right" he let her go of his grip and went to the passenger side, laughing and giving her a knowing look. Bastard. "But, Harry, if we weren't late?..."

* * *

Spikings has thrown the receiver down with fury and rubbed his head. Then he made his way to the outer office, where most of his people were waiting for the briefing. He put his hand on Chas' shoulder, the sergeant looked up with a bit of anxiety.

"Where are Sylvester and Tweety?" the Boss groaned, looking around. "It's nearly two o'clock!"

"If you mean us, Sir, here we are" Makepeace just entered the room and heard the question. She hated all these names Spikings was inventing for her and Dempsey, but she had to live with it. Dempsey of course had fun every time Spikings invented a new name. "Batman and Robin" was his favourite.

"OK, listen everybody" Spikings didn't even raise his voice but they all got silent at once. "First I will let you know the most important information we have just received. Then I will listen to what you had found during your interrogation." He cleared his throat. "OK, first, the forensics report. The fingerprints collected in the basement do not match the ones of Sir Percy Rathbone. And, second, we have received the information from vice squad – Ralph Rathbone who had been spending his weekend in Cornwall and had been called to return to London immediately, disappeared and his current whereabouts is unknown."

* * *

"But we still don't know, Percy may have known 'bout this crap" Dempsey put the fork down. They were sitting at the Bramcote Arms as the canteen was full of people when they arrived there, so they both agreed on a more tasteful lunch in the favourite SI-10 pub.

"We don't" Harry nodded "but anyway he's sitting at his home in Belgravia and this is Ralph we need to focus on now."

"Well he may be in California already. That was a mistake, the vice should just have gone and caught him, not just ask him politely to come back from his vacation."

"Dempsey, we cannot just lock up all the people we talk to, as a precaution. Although I must admit in some cases it might be a tempting possibility… OK, in the meantime we'll need to find out more about Ralph… and Rowena. Let's ask the vice."

"The Boss is busy with the Commissioner" Chas informed them right after they returned to the office and Harry asked about Spikings "better don't disturb them now, Harry. Oh, and there's a message for you" he reached for a piece of paper from his desk "a guy… Simon McPherson called." He gave her the paper. "Dinner tomorrow, he said."

"That's great" Harry beamed while Dempsey winced.

"Our friend, the shrinky?" he asked casually, sitting down at his desk and putting his feet on it. She sat down at her desk and looked at his sneakers with disgust.

"Yes, _my_ friend the psychiatrist" she emphasised "my" a bit. "We are going to have a dinner tomorrow, as you heard a minute ago. Now, can you call the vice and ask them for the new information?"

* * *

 _Harry arrived to the court at a quarter to eleven. She had quite a busy morning and it really wasn't the best day to testify in the court against Sammy "Ostrich" Powell. But the courts never check the schedules of overworked policewomen when they call them to testify. Anyway, when she came, Dempsey was already there. She had expected him sitting at the window sill and scrutinizing all attractive women in his sight or reading one of these ridiculously big American newspapers, but he was reading something else, a small thick book, and he was really lost in it._

" _What's this?" she asked instead of a hello. "An ex-girlfriend of yours had published her memories?"_

" _Naaah, but it's also very interesting" he was excited. "When I came here I happened to talk to a guy, a psychiatrist, a fine expert here. A pretty smart chap, quite fine, ya know. I told him about Adam, he was very interested in the case, told me some very interesting things, and he brought me this book, it's about traumas and… and… about errrrr, the 'pa-tho-lo-gi-cal grieves'. We'll be questioned against Adam's case, so I thought I'd read something more about it, perhaps it may help?"_

 _Harry looked at him, she was taken aback. He's still thought about Adam? To be honest she'd nearly forgotten that, well perhaps not 'forgotten', but she didn't have time to think about it. She just hoped Adam wouldn't be sentenced to life, considering his state of mind at the time of committing the homicide, but that was all. While Dempsey was obviously still keen on the case…_

" _Ah, and see, that's the guy" Dempsey beamed and pointed at someone behind Harry's back. "Hi Doc, ya have more books for me? Oh, and this is my partner Sergeant Makepeace I told you about…" he felt silent; tall, blonde man about thirty-five was looking at Harry with the deepest amazement. Harry frowned, but only for a second._

" _Simon?! Simon McPherson?! I don't believe it!" she exclaimed with a sudden joy._

" _Harriet Winfield! What the hell!... Impossible!" Simon burst into laughter. "You are a Sergeant Makepeace? Your colleague mentioned you when we talked but I'd never guess Sergeant Makepeace would appear to be the lovely Lady Winfield! A lot of things must have happened since the day we saw each other lately!"_

" _Well, the life has happened, Simon, that's all" Harry was really delighted to see the old colleague of the Cambridge days. They had shared the same circle of friends, liked each other very much, it was even before she met her future husband Robert._

" _You must tell me about it, it's just unbelievable" Simon looked at her with his laughing grey eyes. "Oh, listen, guys, I must go, I got three minutes to get to the other end of the building… give me your phone number, Harriet."_

 _Harry took a piece of paper out of her bag and scribbled her home and work number. "Great" Simon caught it with delight and smiled. "Thanks Har, I'll call. Lieutenant, it was nice to meet you, especially that thanks to you I've had such a wonderful surprise! Perhaps I'll have some more interesting articles for you. See you later!" He waved them goodbye, smiled and was gone._

 _At the same moment he left them, the door was open and both Dempsey and Makepeace were called into the courtroom._

 _When they left the court it was after one pm. On their way to the car, Dempsey asked negligently:_ " _So, he's an old friend o' yours, this little shrinkie, huh?"_

 _Harry sighed: "Are you talking about Simon, Dempsey?"_

" _Yeah, why?"_

" _Well, correct me if I am wrong but I think just after you both had met you used words 'this fine smart chap of the court', didn't you?"_

 _He shrugged nonchalantly._

" _Never mind. Let's go, I'll buy you pizza."_

* * *

"Harry, I got some new information about Miss Phelps" next morning Chas stopped at Makepeace's desk, with a pile of papers in his hand. "Not much, but better than nothing for the beginning."

"Thanks" Harry took the documents while Dempsey walked up to them with two mugs of coffee. He put one on Harry's desk, thought a little and handed the other one to Chas. "Thanks, mate. Here, have coffee." He missed the baffled look of his colleague; then Chas took the mug, looked inside it suspiciously, looked hesitantly at Dempsey and decided to thank him and get back to his desk. "Give me some of these, Makepeace" Dempsey demanded.

Without raising her eyes, she held out the part of papers to him. "You are so nice to Chas today, why is that?" she asked unwarily.

"I am always nice to Chas, it's you who never sees that." Dempsey looked down at her. Geez, she looked wonderful in this black and green blouse. "And today he looks really worn out. I am sorry for him. Late night, last night, maybe?"

"Then you'd rather envy him" she smiled under her nose. Dempsey didn't hear it, or at least he pretended he didn't; he poured himself another mug of coffee and sat down at his desk, reading the papers with interest. They spent next ten minutes in silence.

"So, ya found anythin'?" Dempsey asked first.

"Hmm, I don't know…" something in her voice made him look at her carefully. "She travels a lot. France, Italy, Morocco, Canada, even Eastern European countries: Hungary, Poland, Czechoslovakia…"

"She's a designer, it's normal she travels, I think."

"Yes... but…" her head shot up suddenly. "You remember what she said when we were there? 'I haven't left London for ages' " she quoted. "And yet, she's been to Canada in May."

"So what?" he shrugged. "We often say things like that, 'I haven't eaten for ages', or somethin'. Just a phrase."

It was quite funny that whatever he talked about he always referred to food or sex.

"Yes, yes, I know… But anyway…" she frowned a little. "She is a frequent flyer on this route… May… January… September last year… She visits Canada three, four time a year. Let's check it."

Dempsey sighed. "OK, let's talk to the Boss, but if we need to check her at the other side of the pond, it's the Commissioner who needs to submit the request."

"Spikings won't be delighted, will he?" she looked up at him with these innocent big blue eyes. "I always have a feeling he'd rather invite you for a weekend than discuss your requests with the Commissioner. We'll be given hard times, I think. I don't feel like discussing it with him, it would be so nice if someone can do it for me..."

He knew well she was testing him again and he was about to say something but this blue look stopped him and he gave in - as always.

"OK, let's go and I'll talk to him. But remember I need your support."

She smiled gratefully and he sighed helplessly. Same story again.

He secretly called it The Hat Syndrome – he just wasn't able to refuse her anything she'd ask for.


	7. Chapter 7

_This chapter is dedicated to my friend_ _ **Madzior**_ _who enjoyed strolling through the streets of Covent Garden with me a couple of years ago. We need to do it again one day! :-)_ _And thank you for supporting me in writing this story :-)_

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

"Well well well" Dempsey raised his eyebrow. "That's great, that after four, four! days you finally got something for us, Mona!"

Harry glanced at him reproachfully but Mona didn't care. She stuck out her tongue at Dempsey. He grinned friendly and raised his glass of beer.

Two hours ago, when Mona came over with new information about the suspects, the tension in the SI-10 office was nearly palpable. Everyone was nervous and frustrated, Spikings was bubbling away with fury and aggression and when Mona appeared Dempsey suggested taking papers and going out somewhere to read and discuss them at lunch, anywhere but the office! They agreed immediately and left the office in hurry, planning the extended lunchtime. They all – Harry, Dempsey, Chas and Mona - were now sitting in the outdoor restaurant in Covent Garden, all relaxed, glad and in a very good mood, enjoying the fantastic summer. Harry and Dempsey, who had aggressively gotten at one another's throats just few hours ago and entertained the office with short but stormy and rather loud fight about each other's methods of work, now even didn't remember the reason of their argument and chatted about nothing, laughing. Chas was giving his girlfriend the loving looks and then she was bantering with Dempsey friendly although usually they were not very fond of each other. Mona felt great this afternoon, for no particular reason, she just did, and really wanted everybody to feel alike, she was ready to do everything to give her friends the world.

Street musicians played Dixieland, some acrobats and fire-eaters performed on the street near the restaurant, food was great and suddenly Makepeace felt like on holidays. She visited the London centre very rarely, and even they had work to do today, it was pretty good just to sit and enjoy the moment. A wave of sudden joy washed over her, everything seemed to be so simple, so uncomplicated, so clear, no worries, no doubts, just pure "here and now". She smiled to her thoughts.

For Dempsey it was also delightful, as always when he just could leave the office and feel the space and air around him.

"OK" this time it was Chas who decided to get back to work "go on, Mon, tell us what we got."

"You'll be surprised" she said in singsong and opened the manila folder she carried with herself. "I made copies for you…"

"Wooow, that's true, I am surprised and even shocked" Dempsey agreed.

"Don't be silly, OK?" Mona gave the papers away to her colleagues. "Enjoy it. Although it may be difficult for you Dempsey, as you can't read" she paid him back for his cattiness.

"Now, that was good" he nodded with appreciation, taking the sheets. "I see you are learning from Harry and you're learning fast."

"Come on, guys, be quiet" Harry asked, leaning her head over the documents.

There were only three pages to read, so it didn't take long. As full professionals, they read it without any comments. Dempsey has finished first. He raised his head and looked around impatiently, shrugging.

"Well" he said "ok, it is quite interesting, but what good is that for us, huh? Still, giving a birth to a child ain't a crime these days."

"The fact itself, no" Mona agreed "but don't you think that it looks a bit odd? Such a secret! I wonder if her family knows!"

"We dunno it. They might know but don't accept and swept it under the rug. Or she might've had a reason to hide it from them. These guys are weird sometimes. I mean the upper class. They might not like a little bastard in the family."

"Come on, in the eighties in England? You think if Harry had an illegitimate child her dad would disinherit her?" Mona giggled.

"Harry's dad ain't a typical well-bred limey" Dempsey smiled, he liked Lord Winfield a lot since their first meeting years ago, and the sentiment was mutual.

"Then how do you know, perhaps neither are they?"

"Hey, get off my dad's back and let me think" Harry protested with amusement. She looked at her friends. "It is not the fact she had given a birth to a spurious child. But it's interesting what we can read here" she tapped the notes with her finger. "OK, ummm… She'd delivered the baby in Canada, left it there in a family of… errrr… a Mrs Bella Snaith, who's been bringing the child up since then. Rowena visits him – it's a boy, isn't it? - every three months when travelling to Canada, allegedly, for business. And yes, I also wonder if her family knows about the child? Moreover, her name is linked with Jack Snaith, Bella's son, who is well known to the Canadian police for his little dirty business in the underworld, who stays in England now and then… This is not odd, but it's interesting. Nevertheless, we've planned already…"

"… to take her under surveillance" Dempsey finished.

"Precisely. I'd put two guys at her home to observe her discreetly. Mona, do you think your Chief Inspector can arrange it?"

"Malley? Yes, no problem. I'll talk to him when back in the office."

"Are you going back to the office?" Dempsey pretended to be surprised. "We aren't. Are we?" he looked pleadingly at Harry.

"No, we are not" she surprised him, and he raised his eyes on her with delight, but only for a second "because we need to pay a visit to Sir Percy and have a nice small chat with him. And then, yes, we are going back to the office, Dempsey. We have tons of papers to process."

"Hey, if you like I'll tell ya how I'd process them" he grinned slyly.

Chas looked at his watch. "I am going back now. Spikings is surely missing me already." They all stood up and made their way to the street.

"Ouch!" Mona exclaimed suddenly when they left the restaurant. "I'd forget it completely! Darling, we need to buy a present for your mum! I thought about a box for her jewellery, and there's a shop there, at, at, at Tavistock Street. Come with me, we'll choose something, please. Just ten minutes and then you can go back to Spikings" she pulled his hand. "Bye Harry, see you Dempsey, have a nice rest of the day!" and dragging her man, she rushed to the end of the street. Both Dempsey and Makepeace looked at her and then at each other with a deadly amazement.

"What the fresh hell was that?" Harry asked.

* * *

"What was that?" Chas asked, looking at his girlfriend with the same amazement.

"What was what?" Mona gave him an innocent look.

"Honey, you're doing it again!"

"Doing what?"

"You know. Leave them alone, OK?"

"Well I just did, what do you mean? I just think they have more fun in each other's company. Two is a company, three is a crowd, remember? Besides, it allows us to spend a few more minutes together" she burrowed her head against Chas' arm. He looked at her sceptically and rolled his eyes. _Girls,_ he thought with amusement.

"Don't play innocent with me. I don't get it, why are you so interested in someone else's life?"

"Well, everybody is. It's the root of the human existence."

"Then I am not a human, Moni."

"Oh come on, aren't you curious, just a tiny, tiny bit, what's between them?" she showed 'the tiny tiny bit' with her index finger and thumb.

"They are partners at work, friends, colleagues. That's all I know and that's all I need to know. And I don't see anything else between them."

"Well, I do."

"You do?" he looked down at her, astounded. Mona burst into laughter.

"See? You are curious, too, you just hide it well. The world can't know that this straight-faced, responsible, wise Chas Jarvis might be keen on someone else's love affairs."

"There's no love affair there!"

"Well, no, not literally" she smiled slyly. "But, we can bet if you like, I know the boys in your office have been making bets since Spikings had paired these two together, is that true? And don't tell me you don't know, you know everything that happens in this SI-10 nest of vipers."

"It's been three years since they work together. Don't you think they've had enough time to start a love affair? And they haven't so far… God, what am I discussing?" Chas shook his head and laughed. "And, yes, the boys have been making the long-term bets, that's true". _But you don't know, love, that I had put a tenner,_ he thought triumphantly. "Come on, leave it, let's have ice cream before we get back to work" he offered and they walked down the square, holding hands and forgetting the shop at the Tavistock Street.

* * *

Dempsey stopped at the front of St Paul's Church. Harry who was already few steps up ahead, turned her head impatiently. "Are you coming or you want to say a little prayer, Dempsey?"

"Wait-wait, Makepeace" he raised his hand. "Err, listen… Mona reminded me I need to buy something, too, not far from here. Can we do it before we are back to work?"

She looked at him suspiciously.

"And what is that you want to buy and where?" they kept on walking towards the King Street.

"Well, there's a tea shop just round the corner" he explained. Again she looked at him uncertainly, but he looked quite serious. "Ya know it? Neal Street. Five minutes walkin' from here."

Harry could hardly remember the shop he was talking about. "There is one… yes, but I've never been to there."

"Well it's more for tourists I guess, and it ain't old and traditional like the ones you prefer. They started few years ago only. It's nice, anyway."

Makepeace hesitated for a moment. Her sense of duty was telling her they really should go back to work, it was nearly three o'clock and it was still going to be a long day. Besides, she had a dinner with Simon again tonight… since the first one had gone so well… and she didn't want to stay in the office a minute longer than absolutely necessary. But she was under the spell of Covent Garden ambience of June, she still felt like on holidays, so she made up her minds quickly and nodded. "OK, let's go."

They turned left to James Street that was leading to the tube station and was very crowded. "And what are you going to buy in a tea shop for tourists?" she looked at him curiously. "I can't imagine you drinking tea at all, let alone the one from a box with a sweet picture of Big Ben on it."

He put his hand on her small back, pretending to help her get through the wild noisy crowd on the street. At the entrance to the Covent Garden tube station the crowd thinned out a little. Makepeace took a deep breath and stopped for a moment; she hated crowds.

"I need to buy a birthday present for my Aunt Edna" he explained casually as if it was obvious.

"Your Aunt Edna" she echoed. "Is that somebody like your... Aunt Thelma?" Her mouth twitched a bit with amusement. She remembered very well how once Dempsey had tried to convince her that the young, vigorous voice on the phone belonged to his aunt Thelma who had just arrived to London. Of course she hadn't believed him even for a second and just by pure coincidence two days later she spotted "aunt Thelma" with him, at the Bramcote Arms. "Aunt Thelma", of course, appeared to be about twenty five and definitely 36E!

He gave her look of mixed resentment and amusement, knowing perfectly whom she referred to.

"Makepeace. Tell you what" he said, grinning and putting his arm around her shoulders he started walking again. "I know it may seem odd to you, but I do have aunts and uncles."

"Oh, you do, do you" she answered casually. For a moment she considered sliding out from under his arm but decided to leave it; after all he did what he used to do tens of times before.

"I do. Aunt Edna exists. In fact she's my mom's aunt, the younger sister of my grandpa Carlo, she's eighty eight now and lives with my mom. And she loves England although she'd never been to here in her life. Mom says Aunt Edna regrets she ain't younger, otherwise she'd visit me here in England. To be honest I ain't sure if she doesn't, you don't know these old American women with their kin'o jazz, they're indestructible." He wished the tea shop was at least in the Buckingham Palace, they would walk like that for hours to get there! "Anyway, I'm sendin' her gifts from here, this and that, the mugs, English butter cookies and pipe tobacco… don't look at me like that, she smokes one little pipe every Sunday at noon, when she's back from the church… and this tea blends of England, she loves." He stood, let her go of him, pushed the door on the left and made an inviting gesture.

"I think I already like your aunt" she laughed and came in.

The shop was tiny and cute, full of shelves loaded with boxes of different sorts of teas, full of colours. Harry liked this kind of interior, it looked like a box of chocolates. Dempsey walked towards the shelf full of tiny metal boxes and started checking them; Harry smiled to herself. So today she has discovered the family face of her partner. She didn't know much about his background, she knew he had mother and a sister in New York and a brother living in California, his father died ten years ago… and that was all. She suddenly felt ashamed; he's been not only her partner at work but also – for quite a long time – her friend, how come she never asked him about such basic things?... He knew everything about _her_ family, he knew some of her relatives and he even spent some time with them, like last Christmas!

She looked at him with the corner of her eye; he was browsing the shelves in search of something, as she supposed, that he would choose as a special gift for his aunt. The choice wasn't easy. She looked at tea accessories sitting on the table to her left: tiny teapots, strainers and tea balls. Harry had inherited the beautiful old tea set after her great grandmother and used it on special occasions, but usually she used the set she bought at Harrods when she returned to Camberwell Grove after her marriage had turned to be just a complete fiasco. She hadn't taken anything from that house in Chelsea with herself, only some personal belongings. Her mother's photograph was the first thing she had grabbed that horrible night…

"Ya like it?" Dempsey suddenly asked from behind. She jumped up a bit and looked at him, distracted; he bent his head right over her right shoulder. "Errrr what?"

"You've been staring at this pot for two minutes" he pointed to the red tea pot with a daisy painted on it. "Nice thing, but I'd say completely not of your kind. Look, I'd choose that one if I were you. It's more sophisticated."

She side-glanced at him. "You know you don't need a _sophisticated_ tea pot to make a good tea, don't you?"

"But the one you have at home _is_ sophisticated."

"But you never drink tea made in a tea pot, sometimes you use only teabags" she cringed with well pretended disgust. "Teabags! You know nothing about tea making, Dempsey. In fact you should be deported from this shop immediately."

"Before they've done it to me, I have a chance to find something" _I have a feeling we both are talking sweet nothings and it feels very fine,_ Dempsey thought. "What d'ya think about it?" he put a small box right under her nose and tilted his head a bit to the side over her shoulder; now they were standing nearly cheek to cheek. Harry sniffed.

"Urgh, what's that?!" she caught the box, moving it away. " _Alberta Street Blend_? And you think the smell of tar and antiseptics is a proper thing for an old lady?"

"Wait till you try _Tomato,_ _Basil and Pepper,_ that's something!"

"Come on, I know she's Italian but I don't think she'd like drinking a dissolved pizza! Buy something, I don't know, with lavender for example."

"A bit too ladyish, I'd say. Aunt Edna is a strong woman, ya know. She was the one who was able to find me playin' hooky and bring me back to school pullin' my ear all the way down Pennsylvania Avenue."

"Then perhaps something with the fragrance of tobacco?" the lady behind the counter wasn't sure whether she should join their evidently very personal conversation but they were standing just two feet from her so she heard they had some doubts. They looked at her slightly astonished, as if they weren't aware of a presence of a third person in the shop. "I'll find something for you, we just got new fragrances today." She turned around and started looking inside the cabinet behind the counter.

"I'll go upstairs for a moment, there are some more accessories there" Dempsey left Harry and made his way upstairs, progressing up the stairs two at a time.

Harry smiled at the woman. "I haven't even noticed there was upstairs here" she said. The lady smiled back.

"Yes, when you get here for the first time usually you are so keen of what you see that you don't notice the stairs" she nodded. "This was the idea of the shop founder, having designed it like that. But your husband is a frequent customer here, he knows the shop quite well already."

"He's not…" Makepeace started quickly, but at the same moment a noise was heard from the upstairs: something like a loud clash of a hammer hitting a copper shield, vibration, and then almost immediately a stifled curse said in the angry voice with an American accent. Both Harry and the lady looked up; Harry with horror, the lady with mild anxiety. Five seconds later Dempsey appeared at the top of the stairs.

"It's all right, it's all right" he exclaimed placatingly "it was just a metal tray I've nudged with my elbow, and it fell down on another tray. Both trays feel good."

Harry tried not to laugh; his face showed he had had more fright there upstairs then he tried to show them. "So good it wasn't an armour" she noticed, giggling, while he made his way downstairs.

"Easy to say for someone who had been brought up in the house full of armours" he grinned "and needed to learn of how to sneak out of the house for a secret date with a nice stable boy without shushing all the armours, vases and statues along the way outside, Harry."

"A stable boy?" she raised her eyebrow. "Are you reading Charles Dickens now? Our stable boy was fifty, big and had a ten inch red beard. Allright, are you done? You found something?"

"Naaah, I think I'll take this tobacco tea if you found it, Miss" he looked into the lady's eyes with the charming smile. She smiled back: "Here you are, these are various tobacco blends. Of course the fragrance is very delicate and your aunt won't have a feeling she drank the powdered tobacco. Here, try."

After next few minutes Dempsey has chosen three different sorts of tea, of which one was tobacco and two other were typical English blends, an old fashioned strainer and a very tiny tea pot. He asked the lady to ship the gifts to the same address in America as always, paid for everything and promised the lady he'd be back in few months again. They left the shop.

"So when was the last time you've been to Covent Garden?" asked James, watching Harry quickly turning into the work mode. "You know the Neal's Yard?"

"Yes, very nice place, I remember it. But we don't have time to get there" she pre-empted his next question "look, it's nearly four o'clock. Perhaps some other time, and now, do you remember where we've left my car?" and she rushed towards the tube station.

He followed her, smiling under his nose. _Perhaps some other time. Good God, it sounded promising. Even if she said it just out of politeness._


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you for the reviews. It' really important for me! :)_

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

"I don't believe it" Makepeace said desperately.

Dempsey threw her a heavy look and shrugged. He took a cigar out of his pocket and started patting his jacket searching for a lighter. But this time Makepeace didn't serve to him the one she always kept in her bag for him.

"You met this guy twice in your life. And twice you nearly caused him a heart attack. Unbelievable."

"If he is so vulnerable" Dempsey snapped "he should marry an experienced cardiologist, not pick up posh chicks at parties. T'is not my fault, Harry."

"No, of course not! It's never your fault, Dempsey." She gave him a warning look and sighed. "I just don't know what got into you. You could have been more… subtle."

"I am not paid for bein' subtle, lady" he was getting more and more angry. "I am paid to catch scoundrels and bullies and nobody expects me to be nice to them."

"But Percy Rathbone is neither a scoundrel nor a bully" she screamed, unnerved. "He's just a stupid guy who had no idea about what his family did behind his back! The guy who wasn't pleased by information given to him with your undeniable tact – ' _didn't you really know your niece had a child with a criminal?'_ For goodness sake Dempsey, do you think sometimes?!"

He slapped the cigar onto the ground. "Yeah, for example now I'm thinking I've had enough. I'm goin' home."

"Hold on a second! What do you mean, home? We still got paperwork to do, and we need to write the report for Spikings, you are getting back to the office with me!"

"You wanna bet!" he yelled. "Seriously, Harry, leave me alone."

"Fine" she snarled. "See you in the factory tomorrow then. Or whenever. Or never at all, if you like!"

Now she was really mad at him he recognized the signs. She marched away forcefully clipping her heels, and got in her car, slamming the door loudly. She started the engine and drove off with the squeaking of tyres before he could make a move. After a while two red spots, the rear lights of her car, vanished in the thickening dusk.

Dempsey sighed, run his fingers through his hair and looked around trying to find a taxi.

* * *

It was nearly nine o'clock when he entered the office. It was empty and quiet, and only one table lamp was switched on, the one on Harry's desk. She herself was sitting there reviewing the documents and making notes. Dempsey stopped for a second at her desk, but she didn't even raise her eyes, so he made his way to his chair. Having sat down, he looked at her, making his typical gesture with his left hand.

"If you'd just waited five se…" he started, but was interrupted almost immediately:

"There was nothing to wait for, I had the work to do here and no time for that."

He clenched his jaws. "Oh really" he said. "There was nothing to wait for? OK then" he took a paper from the pile of documents and started reading it carefully.

After few minutes he couldn't stand the icy atmosphere. He sighed, screwed the sheet and threw it on the floor. "All right, I'm sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

She lifted her head and looked at him with those piercing blue eyes, now cold like two ice daggers.

"I didn't want to hear anything, I'd heard enough. And I don't need an insincere apology. Will you let me work please?"

"Insincere. Why do you think it's insincere?" he looked at her questioningly.

"You didn't mean it, you just thought I wanted to hear it – your own words of a minute ago. Thank you, Dempsey, you'd better say nothing at all."

Dempsey sighed again. "OK, Princess, you're right, it was a bit risky. But I was sure he'd known about this crap about his niece! It seemed impossible, not to have known it! I just wanted to baffle him, to see his reaction to the fact _we_ know it! Fortunately, the ambulance arrived quickly" he grinned but Harry's face remained cold. For the umpteenth time he thought that if she knew how much this icy anger of hers turned him on, she would act in a completely different way.

"Yes, the ambulance arrived quickly" she nodded. "But one day it won't. And you'll be in big trouble then. And I will be asked why I wouldn't stop you before it was too late. And I'll be in big trouble too."

"Pity we won't end up in the same cell then" he tried again to cheer her up but without a success again. She looked at him coldly. "Is that everything you think of, Makepeace? Not bein' in trouble? All you care about is not to step on the Commissioner's toes?"

"Dempsey, leave me alone, OK? I don't have time for stupid flannelling. You wanted to go home, so why the hell are you here driving me mad!"

"We both know I had no intention of goin' home. Just said it 'cause you hacked me off with your yammering. Seriously, Harry, it's been a long exhaustin' day and you ain't the only one who is tired and upset" he hissed.

"If you wish I won't say a word anymore" the ice in her voice was unbearable.

"Yeah, that'll be the day" he murmured tongue-in-cheek and took two mugs off the draining board. "Wanna tea?" he asked.

"No, thank you" of course, she still was furious: she always wanted tea!

Nevertheless, he started making tea, giving a peep at her from time to time. She looked completely absorbed with work. In fact, she wasn't.

What was her deep secret, Makepeace hated conflicts, they made her sick, she always had a silly feeling it was her fault and responsibility for the bad atmosphere after an argument. She felt guilty even if it was the other side to blame. She'd tried to fight this nonsense but without any spectacular results.

She stared at the documents, trying to stifle her anger and to calm down but she couldn't. Why was this bloody maverick so completely irresponsible? She was really fed up with this constant warning him, stopping him, yelling at him, but what she was really tired of, was the uncertainty at when he'd do something stupid again!

If they had paid the visit to Sir Percy yesterday as she had planned, perhaps Dempsey would have been more careful? The afternoon in Covent Garden has sent them into really good mood and Dempsey was charming and playful. But on their way to Belgravia they were caught by RT and told to get back to the office and to postpone their plans for the following day. And today Dempsey was in one of his famous moods: ragged and distant. It began - alas, alas - when she gave him the envelope with articles Simon had found for him. _Give these to your Leftenant, Harriet,_ he said during their dinner, _I had promised him to find as many as possible._

Dempsey thanked her curtly, stuck the envelope into the pocket of his shirt and since that moment his good mood has vanished. It was rather difficult to work with him that day, but with his brutal and unconsidered words to Sir Percy he went too far.

Why, why the hell this guy that could be so gentle, tender and understanding sometimes, could also be so unsympathetic and dumb?!

The dumb guy has made tea and put one mug in front of her.

"I told you I didn't want tea" she hissed. He shrugged.

"OK, OK, punish the tea for my misbehaviour" he got back to his desk, slurping the tea loudly from his mug. Harry closed her eyes briefly. _Don't let him provoke you._

She stood up and made her way to the coffee corner. She took the bottle of water and poured herself a glass. She passed by Dempsey's desk walking back to hers when she felt herself being caught her hand and stopped. She turned to him.

"What?!" she yelled, and suddenly went silent caught by the gaze of his hazel eyes. He was looking up at her, deadly serious.

"I am sorry for having driven you mad today, Princess" he said quietly. "And this time I really mean it."

For a long while they remained completely quiet, looking at one another.

"I mean it" he repeated, without releasing her hand. "The thing with Percy was my mistake. But that's what I am like, Harry. You know that. You know me. _Hot stuff from New York_ , as Spikings once said, right or not. First shooting, then asking. You know I won't change, don'tcha? You really want me to change, turnin' myself to bloody Chas, for example? Would you stand it? I wouldn't. You wouldn't. You've been takin' me as I am for years, I am what I am and it's your task to be around to restrain me from flubbin'!"

On the one hand she appreciated his… kind of… confession and apology. On the other… it was so easy just to say so lightly, _I am what I am_! So brash to say _it's your task_! Task?!

"One day I might not be around to restrain you from flubbing, Dempsey" she answered as quietly as he did although the anger has still bubbled up inside her. "And I won't be able to save your skin again."

"You'll always be around, Tiger." Still keeping his eyes on hers, he slowly raised her hand to his mouth and kissed lightly her knuckles, then he quickly let go of her hand before she herself took it away. She felt the wave of heat hitting her. Feeling herself blush, she averted her eyes from him.

 _Why is she blushing? She never blushed, even when flirting with him shamelessly sometimes._ She felt confused and she turned away making her way to her desk.

"Are we OK again, Harry?" he asked.

She stopped and sighed, without glancing backwards. "Dempsey… if only you weren't such a…" _jerk,_ she wanted to say, but bit her tongue. She had enough, she needed to calm down and it was difficult as she still felt the gentle touch of his lips on her hand.

After a while she shrugged. "OK, never mind. Shall we call it a day?" she asked. "I am leaving. What you are right about is it's been an exhausting day. I need some beauty sleep."

"I don't think you need _a beauty_ sleep Harry, you know." He smiled and kept her eyes on her, trying to get a grip on himself. It wasn't easy as he still felt the silky skin of her palm on his lips.

She took her bag from the chair. "Oh, I do. For the weekend" She sensed he stiffened again and unexpectedly for herself she added: "I'm meeting the girls from school tomorrow, we'll spend Saturday together. You know: lunch, the theatre, the night club. And I'd forget" she wrote a phone number on a post-it note. "Here" she handed it to him carefully avoiding touching his fingers "you can reach me at this number by five o'clock, if anything happens. But to be honest I hope it won't. I do need to relax, far from the madding crowd."

* * *

"OK, who wants what?" Elizabeth asked loudly, trying to outshout the chatting girls. "Everything is here on the trays. Champagne, vodka, wine. A wide array of, of, of everything" she giggled. They just finished lunch and went back to the big garden, sitting with their drinks on the grass in the shadow of the old trees. Harry leaned her back against the tree trunk and looked at her friends with laughing eyes.

They met every year in summer since they finished their boarding school many years ago; they also have had many possibilities to meet during the year at different social events but the summer reunion was sacrosanct. At the beginning there had been eleven of them, this year eight girls met in Elizabeth's garden. Angela, Harry's best friend, was in Canada, Maisie was expecting her first child right now, and Sarah, beautiful Sarah has been lying in the Hackett family grave for more than two years already… Harry swallowed. She still couldn't think of Sarah without grief and defiance, and the fact she and Dempsey had caught her murderer did not help her at all.

So many things have happened since they kissed goodbye years ago, crying in the arms of the "hated" Miss Crowley, who had been taking care of their morality during all those years, and then all the girls started crying and sobbing hysterically knowing they would never see her again… Harry smiled. Eh, life. Mary got married first and now, at the age of thirty two she had _still the same_ hubby and three kids, and really enjoyed her domestic life. Kenna lived in the castle she had inherited from her parents after their sudden death two years ago. Annabel and Sissy have been together for twelve years and now they wanted to have a child. Ffion was a well-known lawyer, Yvonne who just got married was the world-class violinist and Elizabeth, their hostess this day, had just returned from her four year stay in Australia and she was beside herself with being reunited with her friends again. And there was she, Harry, in their eyes some kind of a female James Bond!

Harry was sure that she'd have to answer a lot of questions about her work and mysterious cases she's resolved, and that she would have to act smart, not to reveal anything important. The girls were loyal, but each of them could tell, in the deepest secret of course, the heard tasty details to a husband, boyfriend, mother… And she knew very well what else – or, rather, _whom_ else - they would ask her about…

She turned to Mary who was telling an anecdote about her husband and one of the kids; Mary was a fantastic story teller, she had the great sense of humour and she was never boring; the girls loved her stories.

"And then John said 'but Dad, it was you who had chosen this colour!' And poor George had absolutely nothing on tap to discuss it further!"

Girls laughed. John, Jenny and Jonathan were a great source of Mary's humorous stories.

"Oh by the way, Harry" Mary looked at her friend "George has seen you a couple of days ago, with an interesting guy, in a restaurant. Smart, tall blonde in a very well-tailored suit. Do you have a new sweetheart, sweetheart?"

Six pairs of eyes turned on Harry with the great interest.

"Somebody new!" Sissy exclaimed. "Haven't heard about a sexy blonde man beside you! Tell us more, Harriet!"

"Yeah, tell us!" Yvonne agreed. "Who is he?"

"And what does the divine James say about the fact you have a new boyfriend?" Ffion winked.

"He is not… I mean…" Harry frowned a bit. "He's an old friend of mine, from Cambridge times. We've bumped into each other lately, by coincidence and…"

"Who is the divine James?" Elizabeth was more curious about Ffion's remark than about Harry's explanation. "I was away for the last four years, girls, please update me!"

 _There we go._ Harry sighed inside with resignation. She knew what was coming now.

"Harry's partner at work" Yvonne explained with amusement. "Really hot, I tell you. Cutie! Good body, fantastic hair, lovely eyes, five feet eleven, and on top of that he's an American and has the sexiest accent in the world! I wouldn't kick him out of bed, but don't tell my husband."

Girls laughed and Sissy and Annabelle even whistled with appreciation. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.

"Do I get it right, Harry? You work with a hot American guy and you're dating an ordinary Englishman?"

"Ah, you know" Sissy giggled "that's one of these silly 'just friends' things."

"Oh, I see" Elizabeth nodded "one of these funny things."

Harry in fact had enough but was sure they'd barely started. The girls loved "the divine James". Annabell, Sissy, Kenna and Yvonne knew him quite well from the parties; Ffion and Mary just heard about him. Sissy and Bell joked very often they might try being straight provided that James would give them some lessons. By the way James… that is, Dempsey, enjoyed their jokes but he never paid them back with stupid remarks about sex with lesbians most of men liked so much.

"Besides, Harry as a professional thinks work and romance don't go together" Yvonne added. "Strange, he is also a professional but he doesn't give such adamant opinions" and they laughed again.

"Oh" Elizabeth listened carefully for something "phone! I am right back and you'll tell me more" and she run towards the house.

"I see you're having fun, aren't you?" Harry fumed. "Yvonne, perhaps you can tell us something funny about your husband?"

"Hey, don't be angry, Har" Annabell smiled. "You have James every day, we see him very rarely, we miss him! I'd like to work with him, you lucky girl."

"You'd start crying after two hours, believe me" Harry laughed, completely disarmed.

"Oh, would I? But you don't cry, do you?"

"No, I scream at him all the time. After three years I know exactly how to handle him, dear".

"Ummm, I wish I could handle him a bit" Kenna giggled naughtily. Harry rolled her eyes but joined the sudden laugh.

Elizabeth returned to the garden, transparently excited.

"Harry, it's your American!" she panted. "Well, anyway, a guy named Lieutenant Dempsey, with an American accent and a very nice voice wants to talk to you now, so I am assuming it's him!"

"Oh no!" Harry moaned with disappointment and covered her face with her hands.

"Come on, why are you so rude for poor James" Ffion resented.

"And why do you think he's calling me?" Harry snapped. "Missing my voice after the sixteen hour break? Don't think so. I am sorry girls, but I am afraid our nice weekend is now over for me" she stood up and rushed to the house, followed by the disappointed "ooooh!"

"Hi Dempsey, what's going on?" she asked.

"I am really sorry, baby I am ruinin' your weeken' plans" she heard "but seems we have a job to do. Ralph Rathbone has just paid a secret visit to the Dark Rowena. Shall we go and see him?"

When Dempsey pulled over at Elizabeth's house, Harry awaited him at the porch. Trying not to show him her grumpy face – after all it was not his fault – she slid into the passenger's seat of his open Merc.

Without giving her the slightest look, he geared and started off. "So" he asked "how many girls are watching me now from the landing window?"

"Seven" she answered, looking straight through the windscreen.

He nodded with appreciation.

"Good score."


	9. Chapter 9

_So this is the end of the first case. It took me ages to write it! and I hope it's worth continuing. I'd like to thank the reviewers, but also the followers and all the anonymous readers as well :) The stats tells me there are some... :)_

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

Spikings raised his head and looked at his team discerningly.

"All right" he said "Rathbone had arrived here about two hours ago. DS Barnes" he pointed at the small, thin red haired guy dressed in a plumber uniform standing few feet away "tried to enter the house under pretence of checking the pipes in the bathroom but none answered the door. We know both Rathbone and Phelps are inside, so far they haven't left. We don't know what's going on inside and we need to be prepared for everything. We are coming in in fifteen minutes. DS Stephens, Chas, DC Warren, DC Smythe and me. Dempsey, Makepeace, Barnes, you are covering the back of the house. The two uniforms that are sitting there in the hedge now will be your support. You all have guns and you are allowed to use them if necessary."

Dempsey nodded impatiently.

"Chief, why the back of the house? I'd rather…"

"I said you are covering the back of the house" Spikings didn't even raise his voice, giving him a sharp look. "That's an order and if you don't follow it you'll face the consequences right on Monday morning. Is that clear?"

"I hear ya, boss" Dempsey stuck a cigar in between his teeth. He took his Magnum out of the holster and checked it.

"Time to catch our prey" he murmured. "Ready, guys?"

Few moments later they were in the hedge at the back of Rowena's house. It was quiet and still. The back French window leading to the terrace was ajar.

"Hey Pete, you look great in this uniform" Dempsey grinned like a Cheshire cat. "I heard some broads like it."

"Yup" Peter Barnes grinned, too. " _Good day, Madam, my name is Tom the plumber and I came here to unclog your_ … Oh, I'm sorry, Harry."

"Ya know Harry" Dempsey poked her lightly in a rib "we could try another disguise since the plumber uniform had failed. For example, a priest and a nun."

Not even a muscle moved in her cool face. "I think I don't like the direction your filthy thoughts are meandering to, Dempsey."

"Mom always wanted me to be a priest" he grinned. "Or a doctor. Speaking of which, we could also use the disguise of a quack and his nurse, in a uniform…" he sighed dreamily.

"You can just wait till hell freezes over." She was keeping her eyes on the house, frowning a bit. "Dempsey, do you remember the plan of the house? The studio is to the right of the main entry? And this French window is at the end of the corridor?"

He thought for a moment.

"Yeah, seems so. Wanna come in?"

"Of course not. Remember what Spiking said? Covering the back of the house. We're staying here." Harry gave him a warning look.

"Yup but Harry" he moved closer with this well-known 'I will explain and you'll understand' look "the door's open, ya see? Only ajar, a bit, but I guess enough for Pete to sneak in and…"

"NO." He knew this kind of 'NO' very well.

"Harry, don't be so merciless. The girl might be in danger. They both might be in danger. Or need help. Imagine her lyin' on the floor, lifeless, unconscious…"

"…because she had slipped on the wet floor while running to answer the phone" she ended. "Try to invent something new for once."

"Why, since this argument works so far so well?" he grinned, but his eyes were checking the door and the house very carefully.

"I'd come in, Dempsey" Peter joined their conversation. "Just behind the door. We'd have the better overview of this situation. The uniforms and Harry would stay here and cover the house."

"Didn't you both hear what Spikings said?" Harry was mad. "Dempsey, I will not help you with packing your things upon your immediate return to America on Monday! On principles!"

"Why? You don't want me to leave, babe, do you?" he winked casually.

 _Yes, Dempsey, it's the perfect moment to raise the subject._

"You will have to, if you don't obey Spiking's orders!" she tried to use all her authority but of course failed.

"Harry. We ain't gonna do anythin'. Anythin'. Jus' instead of standin' here we'll be standin' in there. Thirty feet, that's the difference. We'll still obey Spiking's orders perfectly. But you'll stay here, OK? We need our man outside. OK for ya?"

Harry sighed deeply and took her gun from under the jacket.

"Forget it" she snapped, looking at him sharply. "You won't get rid of me, I've had you sussed. Someone must look after you both when you are getting into trouble again."

* * *

DS Peter Barnes was really short and thin but how he had managed to sneak through the twelve inch space of the ajar door, Harry couldn't say. She wouldn't be able to manage that although she was also slim and very agile!

After three second, the door was crack open a bit more, enough both for Harry and Dempsey to sneak in. They were standing at the end of the long corridor going through the whole length of the house.

On the left, half way of the corridor, there was a door leading to the studio where Harry and James had talked to Rowena just few days ago. The door was wide open.

Between the door and the door jamb, through the chink, Harry could see a short man standing with his back to her, holding a gun in his hand, aiming at something or rather someone she couldn't see…

* * *

Days and even weeks later, Harry wondered if that was Dempsey's sixth sense that had told him "to cover the back of the house" from its inside, not outside, and to enter the house just in this very moment.

"You bitch you thought you'd land me with that crap?" it was the high pitch voice, loaded with fury.

"Put the gun down, Ralph!" It was Rowena's voice. Cold and steady. "I said put. It. Down!"

The click of the safety catch. And then everything happened at the same time.

With a sharp shout "Armed police officer! Freeze!" Peter Barnes threw himself towards the open door; Dempsey pushed Harry back as she hit the wall and he jumped on following Peter's lead. And two shots were heard, deafeningly loud in the closed space. And then, immediately, the third one. At the same moment the main door fell out of the frame and a group of policemen stormed inside, yelling.

Peter slid down the wall, looking with the blank amazement on the red stain shedding on his uniform right under his right collarbone. Dempsey was already in the studio, yelling "drop it!" he thwacked Rathbone's jaw with an enormous power, throwing him against the wall; people seethed in the room with growing tumult and when Harry joined them in a second she saw the third person she couldn't have seen before: a tall, dark haired man Dempsey and Chas held in the iron clasp. Blood was trickling from his ear. Dempsey's left arm of the shirt was torn and also covered with fresh blood but it seemed he even didn't notice that.

Mona Hughes, together with a uniformed officer, already managed to overwhelm Rowena so Harry seeing there was nothing more to do, knelt down at Peter's side.

"Pete, are you all right? Hold on, I am calling an ambulance!"

He winced and moved his lips without the sound.

"That's OK, Harry. I will be fine" he whispered after a while, his voice barely audible. "Will you… visit me in the hospital?" and he smiled and closed his eyes, gasping for air. Alarmed, she bowed her head to check him but he might have felt it because he smiled faintly. "It's just pain, just pain."

Spikings came in together with two paramedics, as usual full of dignity. He examined the room carefully.

"Weeeell" he said, stalling the word. "Whom have we got here? Mister Rathbone, I am delighted to see you finally! We missed you so much. And Miss Phelps, hello. And" his look went to the guy held by Chas and Dempsey "well well well, Mister Jack Snaith, we were dying to meet you as soon as possible" He smiled this scary smile that always made his subordinates' knees weak. "I hope you will like Her Majesty's prison. I am only afraid that the baby of you and Miss Phelps would miss mom and dad for many years."

The man spat on the floor and said nothing. Ralph jerked in the arms of two policemen holding him.

"You said the baby was mine! You said it was mine!" he yelled at Rowena who was already led by the two policemen to the door.

"Yours?" Rowena halted abruptly, turned her head and looked in his face with deep disdain. "Which woman would like you for the father of her child? Such a whiner? Real woman needs a real man…"

Ralph threw himself towards her, screaming with fury. Stopped by two sturdy bobbies, he let them drag him out of the house. Rowena followed them, straightened, cold, merciless, the real Bad Queen of Ice. One could say the police assist was not necessary in her case.

Harry touched Dempsey's arm. "Are you all right?" she asked looking at his sleeve soaked with blood. He looked at it too, with a mild surprise.

"I'll be fine" he murmured. "An' you, a' ya OK?"

"Why did you stop me?!" she was a bit angry. "What was that supposed to be? I told you hundred times not to treat me with kid's gloves!"

He rolled his eyes. "At least one of us is untouched."

Harrry took a deep breath to respond with anger but Spikings came to them.

"Leftenant" he barked. Both looked at him restlessly. "Ask the paramedic to dress this" he pointed at Dempsey's arm. "And remember that I know…" he interrupted "that you were covering the house… from the outside."

"Yes, Chief" Dempsey nodded with relief.

"Only because your contumacy helped us to save the life of these two scumbags" he added, angrily. "Don't think you'll be allowed to break my orders in the future. This time I can overlook it."

He's turned back and left. Dempsey didn't even give him a look, examining his arm.

"I guess we're gonna go and find one of the paramedics" Harry pointed at it with her chin.

This _'we'_ made him glad, which felt a bit odd.

"Jus' a scratch, I'll live. How's Pete?"

"He'll be fine, they say it looked worse than it was in fact, a flesh wound, although it hurt him like hell. Listen, let's go and find someone to dress this scratch, the blood's still weeping" she gave him a concerned look. "Don't play a hero, save it for a better action."

"I hate dressin'. I think it would be 'nough just to kiss it better, huh? Harry?" he grinned at her, tapping the spot near the wound with his finger.

She gave him a withering look.

"Then why don't you go and ask that big, tall, bearded paramedic to kiss it better, Dempsey."

* * *

"Well, so this it it?" Harry looked at the guys. They were sitting on the porch of the emptied house. The rest of the team had left shortly after the paramedics, together with the detainees. "Seems there is not much more to reveal at the moment. As kids they had been flirting, Rowena and Ralph, and then she just wanted to taste the sweet forbidden fruit and slept with him and he really fell in love with her. She had wrapped him around her little finger and he was all for her…"

"Yup, and when she met Jack Snaith and started an affair they both thought they might have used the pathetic boy for their filthy business" Mona added "seems that it runs in the family, both uncle and nephew are naive and silly. She got pregnant with Snaith but told Ralph the baby was his. And there she got him. She gave a birth in Canada where she stayed half a year, falsed the date of child's birth and then still kept Ralph believe as soon as they'd make enough money they'd fly to Canada to live happily ever after with their son. If Ralph had returned to London when we called him to, he'd have been seized and they'd have have enough time to escape before he gave them up to the police. But they didn't suppose Ralph would bottle out and hide somewhere in the country. Just like we didn't suppose Snaith would… hide at Rowena's place from the very beginning!"

"Yeah, seems he was there when we came to Rowena for the first time" Harry nodded.

"And it must have been a shock for the young Rathbone, to realise he'd been cheated for years" Chas smirked a bit.

"Ah, love, makes the fool of us all" Dempsey's casual words were so unexpected that all friends looked at him incredulously.

"Since when have you been such an expert on this field?" Harry asked sarcastically. He shrugged, amused.

"Another stupid jerk stood up by a woman he was in love with. Jeezas, I wonda, how is it like to be so silly? One look at her and you know you can't trust her."

"And yet you aren't an expert at all."

"What? Whatcha mean?"

Harry shrugged and said nothing.

"She meant" Mona continued with amusement "that you don't understand the mechanism of being in love. For Ralph, Rowena was everything, the seventh wonder, the bliss sent from heaven, and he'd never thought for a while she could cheat to him. That's how love works, at least at the first stage."

"Well, seems that this stage has lasted far too long for him."

* * *

Dempsey took the car keys out of the pocket. "All right Princess, I'll give ya a lift back to your girls. Saturday is still early. You still gonna have fun. Shall we go?"

"Oh, thanks, that would be…." Harry was about to nod but suddenly hesitated. Back to the girls… They must be in the theater now? OK, she may join them after the play, at the nightclub. Yes, that's a good idea. They will be glad to see her again. She opened her mouth to ask him to give her a lift; she'd change at Elizabeth's house and go back to the city. But…

"Errrr, thanks, but I think I am not going back" she said finally. He looked at her curiously.

"Really? And why? I thought you'd planned this evenin' for weeks?"

"Yeah, but I am not in a proper mood anymore." In fact she didn't know how to explain it but this was true. "All this here, these people… this filthy case… And the girls would ask thousand questions about what happened and how it ended, and…" she bit her tongue but they both knew she was about to say ' _about you'_. He twisted his mouth to hide a grin. "So, she added quickly, if you drop me off home? Hope they'll never know" she laughed.

"No problem, _home, James_ , then" he agreed. "Or…"

She looked at him suspiciously.

"Or?..."

* * *

The sun was quite up high in the sky when Harry woke up and winced a bit, her throat dry like a desert. She sat up and reached out for the glass of water sitting on her night table.

Drinking it, she listened to any sounds from the downstairs but it was quiet. Dempsey was either still sleeping in the spare room or had already left. After the late afternoon spent in one of their favourite pubs in Richmond they had so much fun together so they have decided to go back to her place and dry up another bottle of wine or two. When the tiredness and drunkenness have finally hit them he stayed in the spare room, it was much too late to look for a taxi. Going upstairs she heard him humming an Irish tune when he made himself to bed.

Harry yawned trying to decide whether to get up or not.

She had a hangover, yes, but just a 'normal' hangover; with a little headache but she remembered this nice night very well. After that night at Stringfellows more than a year ago she never allowed herself again drinking too much. She had learnt her lesson well. Although everything had been explained, forgiven and forgotten, she still felt the hot wave of humiliation and shame when she remembered how first she had gotten drunk that much that she shamelessly tried to seduce Dempsey (in vino veritas?!) and to drag him into her bed, and then the very next morning it was her! who accused him! of taking the advantage on her and having sex with her in her drunken state! In fact she didn't remember anything but when he didn't deny it (although neither confirmed), she took for granted that they had had sex. And she remembered too well his fury and his grudge against her…

" _I'm no Prince Charmless who has to get his charge by sleeping with some lush. And, baby, believe me: even if you'd been comatose, lobotomized, anesthetized and deep frozen - if I had, you would've remembered!"_

 _Interesting, by the way._

She's still been very proud of herself that she was able to eat her own words and sincerely apologize for her silly accusation.

Paradoxically, since that day, in fact, their true friendship started, the trust and respect, and devotion.

" _Next time, Harry, you might not be so lucky!"_ And this infectious, cheeky grin of him, when he kept a cigar in his teeth.

She's always had a feeling that something important happened in that particular moment.

Downstairs rooms were empty, Dempsey must have left some time ago. Harry entered the lounge and smiled seeing an empty wine bottle in the middle of the coffee table, with a paper origami flower stuck in it. Under the bottle there was a note, written in Dempsey's terrible handwriting and language.

 _Harry_

 _went home to sober up. Took 20 quid from mantelpiece 4 taxi. Will return it tonite when take car from pub. C ya around 7_

 _PS Don't cook I bring something._

Harry moaned.

"Oh how generous of you Dempsey, 'don't cook'! As if I had the slightest intention to!"

She looked at her watch, it was nearly eleven. OK, she might as well go back to bed and doze for the next couple of hours.

At the door she stopped, returned to the table, took the paper flower out of the bottle, then left the room and went upstairs.

She took a shower, returned to the bedroom and slid under the duvet, putting the flower into the drawer of her night table. For a moment she lay with her eyes closed, and suddenly she started laughing.

 _You had planned to spend Saturday with your school friends. You were supposed to have a nice gossip lunch in the garden, then to go to the theatre, and, at the end, to your favourite night club. Instead, together with your Yank partner you have caught two dangerous criminals and one dangerous crybaby, and then instead of getting back to the girls for the rest of the day, you sat for hours in the pub in Richmond with the same Yank, like that was the best thing under the sun; and then, with the same Yank again you drank wine at home, enjoying a completely stupid American comedy which you'd never, ever even think of watching being sober! Now you have hangover, Sunday is getting to an end and it seems the Yank will get back to you tonight, with a takeaway, to return the bloody twenty pounds you don't need today! And of course you simply could call him or leave him the message to leave it for tomorrow morning. But you won't. You bloody won't!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"How are you doing, Har?"

"Good, good, thanks" Harry took the glass of champagne from the hands of the man standing beside her and gave him a dazzling smile. "Great party, Simon. I am glad we came over here."

Simon sipped champagne from his glass and giggled. "Well, I am afraid the main course of the evening won't appear; Lady Atherton had invited the crew of the new TV series that is being made in the neighbourhood, this more important crew I mean, of course. But the leading actors had better things to do I think, and only the director has graced us with his presence, you see the guy in the black leather jacket. Lady Atherton is mad like hell."

Harry laughed. "What a disappointment! Somebody famous, these actors?"

"Well, I don't know, I am not very familiar with this business" he smiled. "The actor is British, but the actress is from America. They're making the film just next door, Lady Grace wanted to show-off, to parade the great friendship and good terms between her and her… temporary neighbours, poor girl."

Harry looked at Lady Atherton. She didn't look delighted, indeed, but tried to put on a good face when talking kindly to the director in leather jacket. The man was tall, attractive in a rough way and had this kind of presence that told the world "I am in the Hollywood business but I sniff at it".

Despite the Lady Atherton's disillusion, the garden party was an indisputable success. The weather aided the good mood - the evening was warm and the sun hasn't set yet. Harry liked this noble old garden, now full of people and light, and with background music being played discreetly by a jazz quartet in the corner. She smiled at Simon. "Come on, they have terrific appetizers on the table there."

"Good to refresh ourselves before dances" Simon agreed and followed her.

"Can't wait."

Yes, Simon was a great dancer, in fact he was the best dancer Harry has ever danced with. He had the very good sense of rhythm, the beautiful fluidity of movements, he was just born to dance! It was pure pleasure dancing with him. In fact, it was very pleasant just to be in his company.

They had so much in common: background, education, people they knew, memories of the Cambridge times, similar sense of humour. Simon was a real gentleman… kind, nice, caring and very friendly. And he hasn't overstepped any mark so far. Just a kiss on a cheek for welcome and for goodbye. This might have seemed odd a bit, as they have met several times already but Harry was glad of it, it suited her, and he seemed just to sense it.

She felt a bit sorry she didn't feel a real female excitement in his company, her pulse didn't speed up at his touch, her cheeks didn't blush at his look, she didn't get off balance when he unexpectedly complimented her. However, just yesterday while soaking in the hot bath she finally admitted to herself that maybe, just maybe, it would be good to have somebody to put her arms around, to snuggle, to nuzzle his chest and just cherish the moment. But, at least so far, she couldn't imagine Simon in this role.

Anyway, she felt very comfortable with him despite this… or maybe because of this? Being with Simon was like a slow, peaceful and quiet walk in the countryside in the warm summer afternoon. She needed it, it was the relaxation after her daily hectic life in the SI-10 squad and the constant rollercoaster which was the factory disruption and Dempsey's personality full of contradictions.

" _Come on Harry stop thinking about work again"_ she reprimanded herself mentally, pretending not to acknowledge the fact it was not work she's been thinking of.

Perhaps the thing was, that kind of a friendly relationship with Simon let her be herself – she didn't have to pretend anything, she didn't have to remember to keep her feelings down deep inside, she didn't have to worry she might reveal them and first of all she didn't have to have the fear that someday her heart would be broken into pieces again.

"A penny for your thoughts, Harriet."

Harry blinked several times, suddenly pulled out of the deep corner of her minds, and looked at him a bit distracted.

"Oh, ah, errr, this and that, you know" she smiled. "Did you taste any of those small things?" she pointed at the table.

Simon raised his hand. "Don't worry, I won't ask again. I don't break and enter your secret palace of dreams, My Lady" he caught her hand and kissed it with laughter.

"Thank you, Milord" she curtsied with grace.

 _Break and enter._ The bloody work again!

 _Oh God, that's enough. You are overworked and frustrated. That's just a phrase!_

Both focused on the plates handed them by the waiters and started eating, looking at the people and exchanging comments about them, when Charlotte, the elder daughter of Lady Atherton, came over to them, together with the director in the leather jacket.

"Lady Harriet, so glad to see you!" Charlotte smiled, showing the dimples in her cheeks. "And look who's here, my brother's best friend!" she looked at Simon. "How are you, Simon? Long time no see."

Harry faced politely to the director. "Hello, I'm Jason Dalley" he shook Harry's hand. "Pleased to meet ya."

"Harriet Makepeace. Pleased to meet you, too. How do you like the party?"

"Nice, indeed. So English. Ya know all these people here? So posh!" his eyes smiled in his craggy face. "I got a feelin' I am in an old stylish movie."

"Oh I bet you do" Harry laughed. He looked at her with the raising interest.

"Unbelievable!" he said with amusement. "Oh I'm sorry but ya know ya are the first person here who didn't ask me at once: 'are you a Yank?' How that's possible?"

Harry looked at him surprised and laughed. Only after his words has she realised the guy was speaking unbelievably slow American drawl.

"Easy to explain" she said "I've been working with an American for a long time. I got used to his accent and I think I just don't hear it anymore."

"Aaaaah, I see. Very comfortin' for me. Well" he looked around "nice to talk to ya, Lady Harriet. Come to our film set once, I'll show you ev'rythin'." He gifted her with a sexy smile and rushed towards the other group of people. Simon watched him with amusement.

"Hitting on a girl by the 'film set' pitch? I don't believe it." he snorted.

"At least he didn't offered me watching his stamp collection" Harry giggled. "Poor guy doesn't know I am not impressed by this Hollywood stuff. But I don't think he tried to hit on me, it's just his style."

Simon gave her a glass of wine. "Here you are, let's finish and go dance. Lady Atherton is looking at me in a way that makes me scared. Let's dance before she asks me to."

* * *

About an hour later they were a bit tired but really had fun, dancing, talking to the people and snacking. Finally Harry decided to have a rest.

She sat down on an old wooden bench a bit far from the others while Simon went to pick up drinks, and looked at the garden with the delight. What a nice night.

Suddenly she remembered another night at a party like that, only that was in December, and she had asked Dempsey to accompany her. He was fascinated! Harry snorted with laughter remembering his boyish joy and his words about 'aristocrats with big… errr… personalities'. Well, he'd surely like these ones here too!

Simon came back and gave her a glass of champagne. He sat down beside her. "Are we having fun, lady Winfield" he asked, putting his arm over her shoulder and looking in her eyes he tilted his head. "You seem to be far away from here sometimes."

"Do I"? she was surprised. "Sorry, I didn't want to. I am having fun, believe me."

"Well..." Simon wanted to say something more but suddenly he interrupted and frowned. "What's going on there?"

There was a kind of turmoil at the table where most of the guests stood. Harry felt a stab of alarm in her body and stood up and rushed towards the table. Simon followed her.

In the circle of light stood Charlotte Atherton, gasping for air, her face chalky white, her eyes widened. She looked shocked and she seemed not to see anyone or anything.

"Good God, darling, what's going on?" it was Lady Atherton's voice full of anxiety. Charlotte stared at her blankly.

"He's dead. He's dead. He's lying there... blood… the knife in his chest. Jason… Jason Dalley is dead."

* * *

It was this day one in a million when despite the late hour both Dempsey and Spikings were still in the office. Spikings needed to complete documents for the next day conference with the upstairs so he had left for early dinner at six and came back an hour later – and now was sitting in his office lost in work, trying not to wonder what made the bloody Yank to be here and not to go home or for a night out.

Dempsey, instead, couldn't answer this question even if Spikings verbalized it. He just didn't feel like either going back to his empty apartment or visiting any pubs or bars. He thought that he might just as well stay here and at least straighten the papers and finish a report that was due for tomorrow. Typing without rush, he was murmuring obscenities under his breath but very quietly. He hated that. He hated this stupid paperwork. He hated this desk. He hated this office… well at least tonight.

"Damn" he hissed when he made another typo, left the report and went to pour himself another coffee. At the same moment Spikings entered the outer office.

"Coffee, chief?" Dempsey's mouth twisted in a grimace that was probably meant to be a friendly smile.

"Thanks" Spikings took the mug and looked at him very carefully with the beady look. "Everything all right, Leftenant?"

"Of course" Dempsey tried to look surprised. "Evrythin' tickety-boo, as you Brits say. Even the coffee tonight's better, dunno why."

"Because it's my private" Spikings explained, still keeping his eyes on Dempsey. The Yank looked tired, his five o'clock shadow got stronger and darker, hair in a more dishevelled mess than usual, shadows under his eyes. "Why don't you go home and have some rest, Dempsey?" he asked kindly.

Dempsey returned to his chair and sat down, putting his feet on the desk. He grinned wickedly. "Hey boss, t'is the first time I'm workin' overtime voluntarily an' ya wanna get rid of me?"

"All I'm saying is we all need peace and quiet sometimes…" Spikings was interrupted by the phone ring. He returned to the inner office. "For goodness sake, if that's my wife…" he picked up the receiver. "Yes" he barked unwelcomingly.

Dempsey returned to typing the report but Spikings' next words made him scrambled immediately.

"Makepeace?! What's going on?! What?"

James appeared at the threshold at the lighting speed and looked at the boss with the ill-disguised anxiety. Spikings was listening, making notes, nodding and murmuring in assent. Finally he commanded: "All right then, secure the area and wait for us." He hung up and faced Dempsey. "Get your skates on Leftenant. We got a murder at the Atherton House."

* * *

Simon was really impressed by how sweet and sexy Lady Harriet Winfield immediately changed into Detective Sergeant Harry Makepeace when it came to crime.

She asked all the guests, with the paramount authority in her voice, to leave the garden and get together in the spacious living room, she asked him to stay and not to let anyone approach the body and she called the forensics team and her boss. The forensics came first and she dismissed Simon from his duty, and now she was talking to a police doctor and some technicians. Simon stood few feet away listening and watching; he knew it was a bit childish but he was glad she didn't pay attention he was still here; it was so fascinating! Harry's face changed totally, she was cool, serious, concentrated at her task; _oh my God, what a woman,_ Simon thought with raising delight. He felt like being in a criminal movie, like watching it from the inside, and he liked it.

Just two minutes later, two men entered the garden and rushed towards Harry and the police doctor; one of them, Simon guessed, was Harry's boss, a silver-haired gentleman with moustache, moving springily; another one was Lieutenant Dempsey. Simon smiled; he had taken to the feisty Yank at the moment they had met for the first (and so far, the last) time. The American had that something that made him trustful and loyal. Simon thought he'd like a chance to have a chat with him, the man was really interesting. Perhaps one day they could go for a pint. "Good evening, Leftenant" he welcomed Dempsey, holding out his hand to him in greeting.

Had he expected the warm answer he was disappointed. Dempsey barely looked at him. "Doc," he nodded briefly with a stone face and at once he turned to Harry and their boss, who was already asking Harry about the details of the crime. But Simon, unpleasantly wondered at Dempsey's rude behaviour, followed them with his eyes and noticed a strange wince in Harry's look and just a small twitch of anger, or… resentment? in her face, it was just a blink-and-you-miss-it thing but it was there.

Spikings looked at Simon questioningly, so Harry rushed to explain in few words who he was and what his temporary role on the crime scene was. Spikings motioned Simon. "Well thank you Mr McPherson for your kind help but now I have to ask you to go back to the house and to wait with the rest of the guests for us." Simon obeyed without a word and went towards the house, a bit feeling sorry he couldn't stay there, a bit curious of what the thought he'd just witnessed.

* * *

"And you, haven't you noticed anything?" Spikings asked.

Harry shrugged. "No, Sir. We had a quick word when Charlotte Atherton introduced us to each other. Then I lost a sight of him and an hour later he's been found dead."

"Well" Spikings looked around "let's go inside, children. Time to speak to the people. How many?"

"About thirty, Sir. Minus the stiff, I mean the victim, and me of course. Still a lot."

"Let's talk at least to the Athertons and leave the rest for tomorrow. And this errr, friend of yours, I assume you think he's also beyond suspicion?"

"Sir…" she hesitated "yes, I think so…" For a moment she felt a kind of disloyalty to poor Simon but pulled herself together; that was work now. "In theory, just in theory, I could assume he might have known the stiff… the victim! before and had a reason to kill him..." _God, it sounds so ridiculous,_ she thought. Both men looked at her with appreciation: that was their Makepeace all over, reasonable and impartial when necessary. "But" she added quickly "it's obvious he himself couldn't be the murderer. We've been all the time together. He could hardly have a minute to be alone."

Dempsey, who has been unusually silent so far, looked at her in a way that made her realised it sounded a bit ambiguously. "What I mean is…" she began but suddenly interrupted, angry at herself. She had no obligation to explain anything to him, she might define what she meant to Spikings, but Spikings evidently wasn't interested in such details and didn't expect them. She quickened to avoid any nasty comment from Dempsey, and entered the house before the men. From now on, it was going to be quite a long night.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

" _Jason Patrick Dalley, born 1949, Boston, Massachusetts. Place of living: Los Angeles, California_ …" Harry looked up from the preliminary forensic report she's been reading. "Why do you Yanks always put the name of the state after the city, even if it's about a big and well known one? Everybody knows where Boston is."

"You'd be surprised" Dempsey had poured a bit too much coffee to their mugs and now was pacing the room very cautiously, trying not to lose a drop. He failed when putting the overfull mug on his desk; coffee has spilled out and splattered over the papers. "Shit" he mumbled, drying them with his sleeve.

"Neither the bench warrant for Joey Williams nor your shirt look better than a minute ago - and the paper tissues are at the coffee corner" Harry noticed.

"I don't like Joey Williams and I don't like this shirt" he didn't take more risk, first he took a sip from the other mug and then gave it to her. "Go on, Sergeant, what else you got in this file?"

"Now I am not drinking it" she informed him coldly, looking at the mug with the slight disgust.

"Tough luck, because we've run out of coffee and this is the last mug" he pointed a bit triumphantly. "Oh c'mon Makepeace, don't spoil that. I've put all my heart and soul into bringin' ya this mug unperturbed!"

Harry peeked into the mug. "Well I don't know whether you've put your heart and soul in it but obviously you've put something in. How many times do I have to tell you…"

"OK, as you like. But ya know, t'is boss' coffee, much better than the crap we are given ev'ry day. Sure ya don't wanna it?"

Harry shifted the mug a bit away but hesitated. She really needed coffee after the short sleep this night, and the coffee in the canteen was even worse than the common stuff in the office. Ignoring the mug for a while, Dempsey's words and his smug smirk, she returned to reading the papers.

" _Stabbed with a hunter knife... in a chest... once... caused the immediate death… Body was found in..."_ She massaged her temples, trying to focus on the text. _"Body was found... Oh for goodness sake."_

After the entry interrogation at the Atherton House and recording the contact details of all guests, Dempsey, Makepeace and Spikings went to the office where they spent another hour and finally left for home around two o'clock in the morning.

As usual, Dempsey dropped her off home. They haven't talked much on the way, he seemed totally worn out but most of all he seemed distracted and distanced and - and she had the feeling under her skin she knew the reason pretty well.

She tried not to think about it but failed.

This morning Dempsey's mood was slightly better than at night, but there was something, a shadow in his voice, in his look that reminded her about… about what, she felt uncomfortable and avoided naming 'that'. The most meaningful thing was the complete lack of any of Dempsey's comments about Simon. No mockery, no half-serious virulence, no jibe, as he had done it before, when she mentioned her ex-boyfriends or guys she used to date or just used to meet from time to time. He'd always joked about them, sometimes he made quite brash and rude remarks or even was purely angry - this, to be honest, made her either satisfied and quietly triumphant. Truth to be told, Dempsey didn't like anyone entering what he apparently considered to be his territory. But this time it was different. It made her confused, distracted, a bit delighted and… scared. It was so damn scary, to see him acting like a bear with a sore head because it might mean… it might mean…

" _Oh come on, it means nothing, Harry"_ she admonished herself. _"Don't go too far with your imagination."_

She risked a furtive glance in his direction which occurred to be a mistake as she met his gaze. Suddenly panicked, she averted her eyes immediately and lowered her head back again, and it made her angry at herself. What was she playing, for god's sake, why did she feel so awkward and scared like an innocent schoolgirl? Dempsey was just moody today, not for the first time and not for the last one, so why bother so much?...

Spikings stormed into the office so rapidly that they both jumped up on their chairs. Passing by their desks the boss threw them both a sharp look and beckoned them to follow. They obeyed, Dempsey stood up and walked towards the door of the boss' office first, without looking back at Harry who followed him reluctantly.

DC Fry has joined them when they were already in the inner office. Dempsey looked at him questioningly but Fry just shrugged. Spikings sat down behind his desk, and when both Harry and Dempsey took their places in front of him, Fry has sat down, too, a bit aside.

Spikings looked at them for a long while before he started.

"The… the Embassy of the United States is very concerned about the case" these were his first words this morning. "We've just had a nice meeting upstairs, with Danby and the embassy clerk. I've always known the cooperation with Yanks was tough" his heavy look landed on Dempsey's face "but seems these guys are even worse than... just a citizen." He cleared his throat and looked this time at Fry who was squirming restlessly on his chair. "Detective constable, be patient for a while, you are here because I need your help" he said still mildly but with a warning glance in his eyes. Fry evidently relaxed after these words. "The discussion" Spikings continued "was rather stormy because the Embassy, for the reasons best known to themselves, didn't like the idea of giving the case to the professional hands of SI-10 squad. I think they'd like MI-5" he was slightly getting more red. "Fortunately, with the full support of Major Danby, we've shown them…"

"The middle finger salute" Fry lightly cut in, still relaxed and smiled.

Suddenly, the heavy silence has set in.

Harry thought that for the first time in her life she saw an amazing phenomenon: of two men, one suddenly got purple, while another one got chalky white simultaneously. She felt horrible urge to burst into laughter but she knew this would be a suicide. She clenched her fists to calm down and it help a bit but the laughter was still fizzing up inside her. Like hundred times before, without even realizing that, she looked sideways at Dempsey and met his laughing eyes; apparently he also was struggling with an uncontrolled amusement and was looking for help from her.

Suddenly the tension bubble between both of them broke up so abruptly that Dempsey was surprised no loud pop was heard. They looked at each other with a smile in their eyes. All this lasted no more than three seconds, however to Fry they seemed three years, but that was enough.

' _You're silly, Dempsey'_ her eyes said.

' _And you know why'_ his answer was.

"We've shown them... let's say, the reasons why we think they weren't right and they slightly underestimated our professional skills" Spikings continued coldly "so consider yourself working at the case, the three of you. Yes, with DC Fry who will help you. You'd better stick to the case constable if you think of being promoted to detective sergeant any time. That's all. Go and do what you are paid for. I want the report tomorrow morning. Dismissed."

* * *

Fry braced his hands against the desk leaning his all weight on it and breathed deeply, while Harry stood beside him with her arms folded across her chest and Dempsey was pouring coffee into two cups.

"Do you think he'll ever forget it"? Fry breathed out barely audible.

"Sure" Harry smiled mercilessly "I guess when you have been promoted to a DS."

"Which given the circumstances, will be in about ten years from now so don' worry, dude" Dempsey added nonchalantly, grinning like crazy. "Ev'rythin' will be fine."

Fry moaned.

"What's got into you, Fry, for goodness sake?" Makepeace leaned herself against the edge of the desk and looked at her younger colleague with amusement.

"Jesus, I don't know, I don't know" Fry wiped his face. "First I, I, I thought he called me to reprimand me and when he said he didn't I felt so good and at ease and, and it just slipped out of my mouth before I could hold it."

"Youuuuu, our little ray of sunshine, Fry" Dempsey patted Fry on his arm. "Let us do sumthin' to cheer you up. Whatcha want, huh? An ice-cream? A lolli-pop? Marshmallows?"

"Leave him alone, Dempsey" Harry bade him. "He's still in shock. Would you like a glass of water and a tranquilizer, Fry?"

"You're making fun of me, you bastards" Fry snarled. Harry and Dempsey looked at each other, raising their eyebrows in a silent astonishment.

"He's getting back to normal" Dempsey decided. "That's great, we've work to do. And when we're out you'd buy a bottle of Johnny Walker for Spikings and…"

"Don't give him ideas, he'll set to do it and Spikings won't stand it" Harry got back to her desk. "OK, guys, what are we going to do first?"

"Athertons, I guess. As you know the family it's better you talk to the servants and I take the family"

"Staff, Dempsey, not servants. It's 1987, not 1887. OK, I'll talk to the staff. But do me a favour and try not to threw Lady Grace out of the window. She's a bit pretentious in a way you don't like."

"And me?" Fry nearly whimpered.

"You, my lad?" Dempsey smiled jovially. "You'll be assisting me making notes. Remember to write them down nicely and legibly, or you get in trouble again when the Sergeant writes the report tonight."

"The Sergeant will write _her_ report, not _yours_ " Harry was already walking towards the door, swinging her jacket over her shoulder, with the identical gesture Dempsey used to do - which she even wasn't aware of, however Dempsey was. Fry followed her, like a puppy nearly treading on her heels.

Dempsey caught them up at the door. "Perhaps we could discuss it later, I got an idea. DC Fry should train his skills all the time as the Big Boss said, so perhaps we may leave him to prepare the wide, detailed report this evening, for the sake of our future fruitful cooperation" he said tilting his head a bit and planting his palms on their shoulders; his right palm on Fry's left shoulder, his left one on Harry's right shoulder, and steered them both to the corridor. Fry gave him an uncertain look; he never knew when Dempsey was serious and he wouldn't like to get into his black books, not for love or money! So he looked uncertainly at Harry but he could read anything of her face.

The corridor was too narrow for three persons to walk in rank so Fry took two forward steps to walk in front of them. He still wasn't sure whether Dempsey teased him with the report thing or not. If he didn't Fry was in trouble. How on earth could he write a report good enough to meet Dempsey's, Makepeace's and most of all Spikings' expectations?!

While walking down the corridor towards the stairs, Harry wondered for how long Dempsey will be keeping his hand on her shoulder. For some reason, though, she didn't mind, but finally she decided it was too much of a good thing for him.

"Dempsey."

"Yes, Princess?" he asked innocently.

"You know what. Don't push your luck." She looked at his palm meaningfully.

"Yes, Princess." And he obeyed.

* * *

At 7:30 slow tapping on the typewriter keys has stopped and Fry wiped away sweat from his forehead. The draft report of today was ready… at least that was what he thought. He looked anxiously at Harry who was sitting at her desk, preoccupied with her work. She bowed her head low, her blonde hair nearly trailed the sheets when she moved her hand making notes vigorously. Fry sighed loudly.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked quietly, not even raising her head. "Problem? Tell me before Dempsey's back."

"Er, umm, er, right, Harry, would you have a look at this report?"

"Sure" she reached out "give that to me. And for heaven's sake, stop being so frightened, Fry. We are the team and asking for help is neither a disgrace nor a discredit. You may be surprised, but you can ask Dempsey for help, too, and that's fine."

Fry gave her the grateful look together with the report. "I know" he mumbled "but when I am with him I feel so stupid and… insignificant…"

Harry looked at him carefully and wanted to say something but at the same moment the door was opened and Dempsey stormed into the office, handling two big flat boxes. The intensive smell of meat and spices spreaded in the office.

"Pizza!" he announced. "Help yourself." He laid the boxes on his desk and made an inviting gesture. Fry grinned with delight.

"Awww Dempsey, thanks, I am starving!"

Dempsey opened the lid. "Makepeace?"

"No thanks. I am leaving in a while, I am having a dinner…" she saw his eyes narrowed suddenly "... with Dad, he arrived to London today" she finished.

"That's a shame. I've ordered too much pizza" he said lightly, biting off a huge piece. Fry opened two cans of Coke and Harry winced; how on earth they could drink this sweet trash?

"Sure you don't want it, Harry?" Fry asked and at the same moment a strong knocking on the door was heard. They looked at each other with surprise. "Do we expect someone?" Dempsey raised his eyebrows.

Harry, whose desk was closest to the entrance, walked towards the door and opened it. Then she opened her mouth with surprise at the sight of a pretty, tall, black-haired girl standing on the threshold.

"Sayana! Hi!" she welcomed the police makeup artist, hoping the smile on her face looked natural and sincere. They haven't seen each other since the evening in the restaurant, where Harry had been with Sir Percy as Marion, and Sayana had accompanied Dempsey… she had looked gorgeous in the red sari with golden threads! "What are you doing here? Come in" she added with a bit less enthusiasm. _If you have to._

Dempsey swallowed his pizza so quickly that his eyes went out. "Hi!" he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "Whatcha doin' here, Say? Come on, we have pizza!"

"Just was passing by and saw the light in the window, and then saw your car in the parking lot" Sayana smiled back at him. "I wanted to give you your jacket back" she opened her big bag and took out a carefully folded, worn out denim that undoubtedly belonged to Dempsey. "Sorry it took me so long, and thanks again."

 _His jacket?_

"No problem" Dempsey took the jacket from her hands and threw it towards his desk. "Great you came. Will ya help us with pizza, me and Fry? I think I've ordered too much."

"Wow, good, I am starving, didn't have time to eat today at all" Sayana sat down at the desk with two opened pizza boxes on it. "Don't you want some, Harry?"

"Harry is leavin' us for truffles and champagne" Dempsey explained nonchalantly. "Seems she's not keen on cheap pizza and coke."

She looked at him as if he threw something in her face and it made him felt really stupid about her. _Oooops, Jim, you've screwed it up._ "Sorry Princess, silly of me."

"Silly indeed" she agreed quietly, gazing at him, then she turned to Sayana. "I am visiting my dad tonight, he's in town" she explained. "Sorry but I must go…"

"You know what" Fry who was silent suddenly spoke "I wish I had a camera with me. You'd be a fantastic object for a gorgeous photo!" and when both girls looked at him, he explained: "The colours. Wonderful."

A bit astounded, they looked at each other and Dempsey stared at them. Fry was right, they both looked terrific standing close to one another: Harry, cool blonde with blue eyes, light blue shirt and dark blue trousers, and Sayana, hot in her Southern beauty, with dark hair, brown eyes and dressed in red suit. Yes, Fry had an eye for such a details! _Queen of Ice, Queen of Fire,_ Dempsey thought but fortunately he managed not to speak it out loud. Harry smiled, this time visibly insincere.

"Well, pity you don't have a camera but anyway I really should be going now. Have a nice rest of the evening, and guys, remember we meet tomorrow at seven thirty here, don't sit here too long" she added a bit viciously. She took her bag, waved them goodbye and left.

"Bye, Harry!" it was Fry.

"Greet your ol'man from me!" closing the door she heard Dempsey shout before he stuck another enormous piece of pizza into his mouth, judging by the sounds of it.

Harry was slowly walking along the corridor again, alone this time, listening to the quietening voices and laugh, muffled by the closed door, and the further was she walking away, the more she wanted to go back and join the little merry crowd with their damned coke and pizza, to sit there and laugh and stay in the good mood she was in since morning… up till now. She shook her head, getting herself a grip. He… they didn't need her presence, obviously. Bloody Sayana will do.

She went downstairs and walked towards her car, feeling a hard lump rising in her throat.


	12. Chapter 12

_Did you miss me? :) I hope you enjoy this new chapter. And I'd enjoy seeing some reviews, too!_

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

"Yup, Harry, you're a big girl" Makepeace said to herself, parking the car the very next morning at the SI-10 parking lot. "You can't be sulky only because some guys didn't die for your company last night."

She hurried upstairs, it was 7:29 already, she couldn't be even a minute late as yesterday she had reminded Dempsey and Fry to be on time!

She pushed the door and stormed inside vigorously. Fry was already there, making tea, and of course no trace of Dempsey in sight.

"Good morning, Fry" Harry deflated a bit but greeted the constable with a warm smile. "Do I get tea, please?"

Fry didn't need to be asked twice. He gave a mug to Harry looking at her with the real adoration. _Too big adoration_ , Harry thought with a concern. "So, did you leave late yesterday?" she prompted friendly. Fry shook his head.

"No, I've left just after eight thirty, when we finished pizza" he smiled "but I don't know about Dempsey and the girl, they stayed here for longer. They seemed to have fun, you know" he winked.

"Oh" that was all Harry could say but Fry didn't notice the ice in her tone. He continued merrily while she hid the expression on her face behind the mug, sipping tea: "Nice girl, this Sayana, very fine. I wonder whether I could ask her for a date, well, if Dempsey wasn't interested of course, I couldn't fall foul of the Master."

"Try it" Harry advised, suddenly more irritated. "And to have more chances perhaps you should offer her your leather jacket" she pointed at Fry's favourite outfit.

Fry choked.

"Well well well" Harry turned round, facing the wickedly grinning Dempsey. "I hear ya, Sergeant! Say what, babe, ya know all my jackets, shirts and sweaters are at your service. All ya need is to ask. Then there's no need to be jealous of anyone else wearin' my denim, Harry" and he tapped friendly her nose with his finger. She jerked away. He seemed to be bloody enjoying himself a lot.

"I am not jealous of anyone wearing your denim" she snapped, even to her ears it sounded stupid and miserable.

"Then of what?" he tapped her nose again.

"Do it again and I'll bite _your_ nose off!"

"Whoa, I didn't know you like playin' rough?" he was still stupidly beaming and it made her mad. What was he so satisfied of?

Whistling loudly "Sweet Home Alabama" Dempsey rushed towards the coffee corner and Harry sat down at her own desk.

Thing was, suddenly it occurred to her he was bloody right. The realisation of the fact hit her hard: the innocent words of Fry had blown up the storm in her mind. And made her jealous. She was jealous like hell and it made her shocked, distracted and confused.

It was not the mild, quiet resentment and concern like when he was with Mara Giardino, whom he _had to_ get as close to as possible, as in some way his life depended on it. It was not the frustrating sense of a defeat when Simone, his ex, came to the UK to find him and surprised him with the unexpected visit.

It was the real, legendary green-eyed monster roaring furiously in her soul, not so deep inside.

Her vivid imagination prompted her the pictures of him and Sayana, here, alone in the office. The girl sitting on his desk, her hands in his hair, her red jacket shrugging off her shoulders, his arms around her waist, his hands under her ecru blouse, stroking her arched back, his mouth moving down her neck to the neckline…

Did they do "it" here, taking a risk of being caught in the act, or that was only foreplay and then they left in hurry for his or her place, whichever was closer?

"HARRY!"

She jumped up and looked unconsciously at Dempsey who stood near her chair.

"I'm askin' ya for the third time, what's wron' with my desk, you're starin' at it with horror! A'ya all right?"

"Errr, yes, nothing, no, I mean, nothing, I was just thinking" she blushed furiously which made him look at her with even bigger astonishment. "What now?" she growled in an attempt of the self-defence.

"Nuthin'..." he murmured, going back to the slandered desk "I only wish I knew what you were thinkin' about."

Harry lowered her head, flicking through her calendar, but she didn't even see the pages.

 _For goodness sake, you're ridiculous. What's got into you?! Are you mad?!_

She was completely taken aback by the intensity of her visions and her own emotions. The rational part of her mind kept telling her all these ideas were quite absurd and overdone, but probably for the first time in her life Harry wasn't able to listen to these reasonable whispers. She never ever felt jealousy this strong. Even when her marriage had collapsed - she was furious, devastated, shattered, lost, but she wasn't jealous. After what her husband had done to her she couldn't have been jealous as she stopped loving him within a second which by the way had seemed impossible to her before.

 _Loving._

Harry swallowed and raised her head at a sudden noise: it was Fry who, on his way from Spikings' office, has miraculously caught a foot on a chair; the chair fell down the floor.

"Oops I am sorry" Fry breathed deeply "I've left my report on the Boss desk. Over and done. Can't do anything more. How are yours?"

"Ours what?"

"Reports."

"I have finished mine yesterday before you even started yours, Fry" Dempsey grinned. He half expected a common remark from Makepeace, something about the language of his report and its length but she just rose up from her chair.

"And mine's ready too, just give me a second and we may go" she said dryly, then made her way towards the inner office door, holding the file of the clipped sheets in her hand. Fry stared after her with a kind of concern.

"DS Makepeace seems upset today, don't you think, Dempsey?"

"Nah, haven't noticed anythin' like that" Dempsey shrugged, smiling to himself. "Are you ready for a brand new day, Fry? The gorgeous life of the film stars and Hollywood intrigues?"

"The cast is Hollywood?" Fry beamed.

"Some of them are, yup" Dempsey stood up as Harry got back from Spikings' office. "Ready? Off we go then."

* * *

Harry got better during the journey to the film set, Dempsey noticed. He observed her discreetly in the rearview; they'd taken her car and she'd let him drive, explaining she was going to review her notes again. And so she did, sitting on the back seat and reading, frowned and completely focused at it. _Work always did good to her_ , Dempsey thought.

If she stopped and glanced over she might see the light smile in the corner of his mouth. In fact, he was really glowing with the quiet triumph and hoped he didn't show it too much.

Dempsey emerged from his reverie and stopped the at the gate of the old property where the film was being shot. It was not very far from the Atherton House; as Harry found out, the owner has lived in New Zealand for ages and the house remained empty all the time so he was glad to rent it and earn some extra money.

An uniformed guard walked towards the car and looked at them questioningly and rather unfriendly. Dempsey rolled the window down.

"It's closed for visitors, staff only" said the guard lazily, scratching a spot behind his ear with a pencil.

"Fantastic" Dempsey answered with the best of his American drawl "and we ain't the visitors, we are the police. Go and tell Miss Houlkey, if that's the correct name we're here. She's awaitin' us."

The guard look at him again and opened the gate.

"Leave your car at the drive and walk to the rear of the house" he murmured "they're all there. And don't interrupt them when they're just filming, I tell ya."

There were some cars and pick-ups on the drive but the house looked empty and closed. A young woman walked from behind the corner, with the welcome smile.

"Detective Sergeant Makepeace?" she half asked, looking at their faces one by one. "My name is Amanda Houlkey, the set assistant."

"Sergeant Makepeace, Lieutenant Dempsey, Detective Constable Fry" Harry took it upon herself to introduce her team to Miss Houlkey. "Where can we talk in peace, please?" she smiled at the girl. "I understand the work goes on here despite the tragic event?"

"Yes, it does" Amanda showed the way and they followed her. "This is film, we cannot allow ourselves any delay. At the moment we are shooting a scene in the rear garden so we'll walk a bit further aside and talk near the campers. No one will disturb us, at least within next couple of minutes" she sighed.

"I am sorry Miss Houlkey but no one's going to disturb us as long as we are talking with you and some other staff" Harry explained politely. "This is the murder investigation. You all have to find time for that" she sweetened the bitter pill of her authoritative words with a smile. Amanda Houlkey nodded.

"Of course, I am sorry. Silly of me. I just got used to working with quite… spoiled and fussy people and I can predict their reaction, you know. But we'll do our best not to make you… or us, waste time" she smiled.

Amanda led them to the side path, and then to the group of campers standing right at the edge of the park. The seven campers made a little square in the middle, where some tables and chairs were put together. A thin teenager was cleaning one of the tables.

"Gwennie", Amanda asked "would you please bring us coffee? Thanks." The girl nodded and disappeared inside of one of the campers.

The place they were sitting gave them an unimpeded view on the film set in the garden beyond the house: a group of people pacing from one spot to another feverishly, shouting and commanding each other. The camera on a boom was moving slowly above them, like searching the best place. Suddenly all have quieted down; seemed the shoot began. Fry was staring in that direction obsessively, craning his neck and trying to see more details.

"Fry" Dempsey murmured "job."

Fry straightened up and sighed quietly. Amanda smiled at him.

"Are you keen on filming, Mr Fry?"

"Who isn't?" Fry smiled back at her.

"Well I am not" Harry remarked dryly. "I like films on TV or cinema but I am completely disinterested in the things behind. How about you, Dempsey?" she forced herself to ask him a casual question.

"Naaah" he shook his head "this whole business is hoked up. Why are the folks that just pretend bein' someone else, are worshipped so much? It's just fun. And they treat it so seriously."

"You also sometimes need to pretend when we work undercover" Harry remarked "and you treat it seriously too."

"Not the same thing. My job _is_ serious."

Amanda coughed and Harry rolled her eyes.

"I am sorry for his rude remark, Miss Houlkey" she said "so, can we talk about Mr Dalley now? He was the main director of the film…?"

" _Orchids and Camelias_ " Amanda supplied and Dempsey couldn't hide a grimace of amusement. Unnoticed by Amanda, he made some other grimaces and rolled his eyes showing Harry what he thought about this sentimental crap and the stupid film titles.

As Harry had expected before, they didn't get much interesting information about Jason Dalley this time. All Amanda could say was he was a real boss, very demanding and very concentrated on his job and also on himself: he was rather a man of few words and there was no discussion about what he'd decided, well at least not with the set staff.

Jason Dalley was divorced, had no children and currently no longtime partner. He was rather a private person and Amanda didn't know much about his personal relationships. There was, however, one name…

"She's his flame, I suppose, well she had been seen several times in his company" Amanda explained, and suddenly she sighed desperately, looking at Harry and seeking understanding from her. "I must say it's a bit difficult for me as I feel myself like a kind of a gossip girl, although I understand it's necessary for your investigation."

Harry smiled.

"I see, Amanda, how you feel" she said friendily "but the thing is, we'll need to ask everyone about everything. Even about the difficult and awkward things of Mr Dalley's life. Was he a gambler - we need to know it. Had he homosexual adventures - we need to know. And even the things that seem irrelevant to you - we need to know, as you never know what is relevant or not, OK? So, whom are we talking about?"

"Her name's Elizabeth Summerside" Amanda said reluctantly. "She's a lawyer and she majors in the film contracts. Jason used to meet her quite often in London. He always asked me to get a car ready, to drive him to there, or to book a table in the restaurant, always the same one."

After a half of an hour talk Amanda went to the film set when the shoot was done, to ask the second director to come over. Dempsey hoped they'd hear something more interesting from the guy who had worked closely to Jason. He really wished he could speak to him alone. He glanced at Harry who obviously thought the same.

"Listen" she prompted "how about you speak to this director and I'd get back to the city and try to have a chat with Mrs Summerside? We have quite many people to talk to so we'd better split for the rest of the day. I'll visit the lab when I finish with her and review the results they should already have had by now."

"Yup" he agreed "and tell the guys from the lab they'd promised me to check upon the knife for today. Ask Rosa, she'll remember."

"Sure" Harry got to her feet "OK, we'll be in touch, and, oh, Fry, try to make your notes as good as of yesterday."

"Wait, I think I've left my wallet in the car" Dempsey remembered suddenly "I'll go with ya and fetch it."

She hesitated for a second but nodded, what else could she do? After all, it was him and Fry who were left without a car here. Although knowing Dempsey she wouldn't be surprised seeing him in a limousine with the leading actress driving him (well, and Fry) to the SI-10 headquarters.

"Ask Nick to check the phone numbers we've been given by the girl, I mean these for the States" she asked when they approached the car.

"Nick?" Dempsey raised his eyebrows.

"Fry, Dempsey, Fry. That's his name. What did you think it was, _'DC'_?" she opened the car door and moved to get in.

"Harry."

Suddenly she was frozen to the spot by the hushed tone of his voice. She couldn't dare look at him. She didn't answer praying for leaving from here as quickly as possible.

"Everything will be fine, Harry."

He hadn't intended to say that - no way. But Harry's today obvious distraction and resentment just made the words slip off his mouth. He cursed himself momentarily for that but anyway somewhere inside he waited impatiently for her answer or reaction.

Harry forced herself to sound casually and blankly, to quieten this insufferable tension.

"Oh, whatever you have in mind, Dempsey. See you later then."

But of all answers, that was the worst one. Dempsey took a step backwards, stone-faced and distant again.

"As you wish" he said coldly. "See ya later."

* * *

Harry has spent the rest of the day driving from one place to another. She wasted a lot of time trying to catch Elizabeth Summerside who, as a lawyer, was very busy and was moving all over London from one meeting to another. Finally her assistant caught her in the City and asked her to return to the office immediately, which took her nearly another hour.

Elizabeth looked like an attorney of the American films who kills the sneaky bosses of the big corporations with one cold look. Harry concluded it was good Dempsey didn't come with her. _He'd drool on the floor on the sight of her,_ she thought, and this thought made her angry, _don't start again Makepeace, and what is more than certain the woman would not even give him a single look._

Elizabeth was very polite but cool.

"We were lovers" she answered Harry's first question. "And if you asking herself why I am so cool two days after my lover's sudden death I can tell you: it was just sex. I have my own specific needs and Jason was one of the very few men who were able to satisfy me. But I should also say out of the bed we even didn't like each other."

Harry shouldn't be surprised, she saw a lot at her work but she felt the wave of animosity towards this woman.

"I don't go regularly to the fancy restaurants with people I don't like" she noticed a bit too sarcastically as for a professional policewoman.

"That was a part of the ritual" Elizabeth looked at her impassively. "Sitting at the same table, having a dinner, talking and knowing what was coming next. A kind of an exciting foreplay, you must know what I mean."

Harry felt disgusted. Not because of Elizabeth's words, but of the fact she really didn't care of Dalley's tragic and sudden death. Like she had had a sex shop doll with a penis in bed and then threw it away when it broke at a rough play with a lit cigarette.

"All right Mrs Summerside, now I'd like to know why you didn't like your lover" Harry sat down in the comfortable armchair, crossed her legs and opened her notebook. "And let's not hurry, we have plenty of time ahead" she added with the well hidden satisfaction.

It really took helluva time and Harry reached the forensic lab in the late afternoon. Rosa, the proud grandma of her third grandchild ("and the first boy in the family in this generation, Sergeant Makepeace!") worked on the afternoon shift this day so they spent quite a long time reviewing the lab reports and discussing them.

The late June days have been hot and close and no one in London was surprised when it finally came to the turbulent thunderstorm; on contrary, the tired nation has welcomed it with a great relief. The thunderstorm was really something, black clouds have covered the sky and the rain wall has plummeted down with the startling power. It calmed down a bit in the evening when Harry finally was driving back home - she decided not to return to the office but to call Spikings and Dempsey later and discuss all the new information. She was tired and thought only of a hot bath and sleep. Raindrops were hitting the windscreen hard and loud, the wipers were doing their best.

Being close to home already Harry suddenly realised it was surprisingly dark outside. No street lamps were on and the windows of the houses were black as well. "Damn" Harry cursed, discouraged "another power cut." It happened from time to time at the bad weather conditions and presciently she had some candles and a torch at home. Well, perhaps the idea of a bath in the tub surrounded with the circle of candles wasn't bad? Harry pulled alongside the parking place at her doorstep and cut the engine.

The torch was sitting in a drawer of a small table in the hall so Harry took it out when she entered the house and switched it on. She dropped her bag on the floor and just wanted to walk to the lounge when she halted. There was something strange here. After a while she realised the torch wasn't the only source of light inside the house. She switched the torch off and - and yes, a weak, wavering light was burning in the kitchen!

Harry grabbed the iron bar she kept at the door in case of any intruders and paced slowly and cautiously towards the kitchen, however she knew well whom she'd find in there.

Dempsey was sitting at the table, at a candle, holding a cup with his both hands, staring at the table top. Harry throw the bar on the shelf near the door.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped furiously. He raised his head and looked at her with his common grin.

"Hiya Harry. Long day, huh?"

She stopped right in front of him, putting her hands on her hips. "I've asked you something, Dempsey. What are you doing here?"

"Didya expect someone else?" he asked wryly.

"Don't be obtuse" she looked at him coldly. "Why are you here?"

"Ya gave me keys once, remember?"

She was quickly losing her temper. "Yes, I gave you the keys in case of emergency, not for your convenience to break and enter every time you feel like doing it!"

She remembered their talk about it, couple of months ago.

" _Have them, but bear in mind if you betray my trust I'll stick them into your… throat" she hardly managed to change this last word._

" _Lady Makepeace, I am shocked!"_

"I thought you were home when I drove here" he explained "wanted to discuss... the findings of the day."

"And you decided to break in and wait inside?"

Dempsey sighed.

"Harry" he started with a quiet, tired voice "it was rainin' like hell and still is, my car is at the SI-10 parking lot with a flat tyre so I needed to take a taxi to come over here. I could've waited on the porch but even for you it would be a stupid idea given the conditions outside."

She perceived his hair was still wet and the wet bloody denim jacket was hanging from the countertop. Her next thought was Dempsey always looked incredibly attractive when wet, which she had happened to see several times in the past. She squashed the thought immediately.

"Do you want tea?" she asked peaceably.

"No. You want tea" a shadow of a smile flickered through his face. "I'd already had one and you've just came home."

She couldn't stop a smile. That was the Dempsey: few simple words and it felt better. She put the kettle on and sat down by the table staring at the blue flames of the gas cooker.

"And where did you leave Fry?"

"He's writing the report in the office. I thought we wouldn't need his company tonight."

Her heart did a flip but she kept the straight face. "So, did you find anything interesting?"

"A'ya talkin' about the case?" he teased her. "You'll read it in the report tomorrow morning."

"I am serious" she stood up and took a cup. Then she hesitated, opened the cupboard and took two mugs out of it.

She had only two ordinary mugs at home, and she'd bought them about a year ago as Dempsey had complained drinking tea or coffee from a China cup was as uncomfortable as catching a match with a digger bucket. Another thing done only for him. The keys she gave him, the lighter she kept for him in her bag, the mugs.

She handled him the mug and sat down again beside him, catching his smile.

The rain let up a bit.

"How about your meeting with Miss Lawyer?"

She really wanted to reciprocate with _you'll read it in the report tomorrow morning_ but he could get it completely wrong. Sitting with him alone at the candle light in the kitchen, with the rain hitting the windows has created a really non-working atmosphere. _No way._

"Jason Dalley wasn't a nice wise guy" she said finally. But somehow she didn't like to continue. She was tired and needed to relax.

"Yeah?" he also sounded disinterested.

"Uh-huh. There was something about a young girl…"

"How young?"

"Oh no, that's not what I meant" Harry understood his question. "Just a young woman who committed a suicide after she had had an affair with him."

"So… a revenge?"

"Might be" Harry got up to make another mug of tea. "Anyway we need to check it."

Dempsey reached out his hand and switched the kitchen radio on. He started to browse the frequencies and finally found a station with jazz. Soft warm trumpet music has filled the room. Harry bit her lower lip. Definitely he didn't feel like working anymore. Well, neither did she, she has had it up to here with this day, exhausting both physically and emotionally. But as long as he was here, her chances for composing herself were none. The candle and music weren't helpful, either. She should ask him to go now.

As if he was reading her thoughts, he stood up and walked to the window, standing beside her. "Seems it isn't rainin' anymore" he noticed staring out the window.

"And your jacket is still damp" Harry tutted, shaking her head with discontent. "You should have hung it on the chair, not just throw it anywhere." She lifted the jacket up off the countertop. "Now it'll take ages to dry it."

"Don't worry" he murmured "it's still warm outside, I don't need to put it on. I understand you want me to go, huh?"

She wanted to nod but to her own amazement she heard words coming from her mouth: "I think every time I want you to go I am just asking you for that, without beating around the bush."

 _Good God, what was she saying? She wanted to stay alone, go upstairs and stop this crazy emotional merry-go-round spinning inside of her!_

"So…" she didn't look at him but _knew_ he had the twinkle in his eye "you don't want me to go?..."

All right, this was getting more and more dangerous. Harry panicked. He stood a bit too close.

"Yes! No! I mean…" she sighed desperately. "Oh for god's sake, could you please leave the banter off for once? I am tired."

And then she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"I wonder why you think it's a banter, Harry."


	13. Chapter 13

_This chapter was supposed to be a gift under your Christmas trees, unfortunately I didn't make it on time. So this is my New Year's gift for you. I think you'll like it :-)_

 _2016 was very lousy globally, we've lost so many wonderful people (among them, my best friend's lovely Dad) and it makes me sad :-(_ _But for me personally it wasn't that bad, after all I've met you all through this website. You have no idea how important to me it is._

 _Happy New Year Everyone! And enjoy this little piece of my work :-)_

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

Harry's heart stopped for a long while. When it started beating again she desperately wished she were somewhere else. At Piccadilly Circus, for example. Preferably at rush hour, with one thousand people and the entire SI-10 squad around. And Spikings. And Major Danby. Not here, not in this quiet, dark kitchen, with a single light dancing on the wall, not here with him, alone.

When was this day going to end?

She wanted to say something brilliant but couldn't gasp out a single word. But she _had_ to say something, anyway.

Last few raindrops hit the window hard.

"Why wouldn't I?" Harry forced herself to speak, with an uncertain and rather fake smile. "After all, that's what you've been always living on. Constant banter and tease for fun."

Dempsey sighed. He hadn't planned to start any serious talk with her this evening. They both were tired and emotionally off balanced. And perhaps that was the reason they both have given in to the atmosphere of relaxation and intimacy. He wondered whether he should keep on going or rather stop immediately and he definitely would choose the latter. But a little devil sitting on his left shoulder was telling him a different tale.

"But you know, I can be serious if it's necessary" he probed.

"When it's necessary, right" she answered mercilessly and dryly.

It was like a kick in his guts. The cold wave of discouragement washed over him. Harry was not just a tough cookie - she was insufferable! Why the hell wasn't she able to act like a woman she sometimes seemed to be like - tender, nice, warm, open, coquettish… Why wouldn't she admit…

 _Would you, James?_ whispered a sweet little angel sitting on his right shoulder.

From the spot he was standing on he could clearly see her clean profile, her hair, her ear, the cute nose, the lips and the stubborn chin. The pure, five star beauty. Life would be much more easier if she wasn't so beautiful. And if he didn't sense the constant fire under the cool surface.

"It's called a conversation, Harry" he said finally "you know, people exchanging thoughts, feelings and opinions. Do you consider this kind of communication sometimes?"

"Good God, Dempsey" she looked at him with those piercing crystal blue eyes "if there's one thing we've overdone for all this years it's a conversation. Don't tell me we don't talk."

"True dat" he admitted, taking his mug and sipping tea "unless you try to stop me and change the topic for the reasons best known to yourself. And then it's the one way street."

"Only when that's necessary."

"No. Only when you think it's convenient for you. There are conversations and conversations, Harry. You just don't like talking about, umm, things."

"Things."

"Yes, things."

There wasn't more important thing on earth Harry has ever prayed for than to cut this _conversation_. On the other hand, though, it was a pure pleasure to see Dempsey's uncertainty and awkwardness.

Something tempted her to say her next words: "Do you know you're talking in riddles, Dempsey?"

"Am I really?" he looked her straight in the eye. They held their gazes for quite long time, neither of them willing to quit. Finally Dempsey gave up first, pretending he didn't notice the twinkle of satisfaction in her look.

"Listen, why don't we go to the lounge and sit at the fire" he suggested nearly sure she'd reject the idea. "We can order somethin' if you're hungry" he smiled. "You must be hungry after so many hours of workin' today. Well, I am hungry. And since we agree I ain't need to be goin' right now…" he stopped short with an ambiguous smirk.

All right this was a challenge and she had to meet it. There was no other way. And she knew he knew it.

She raised her chin pugnaciously. "OK, I think Chinese would be good." She walked towards the kitchen door in the dim light of the candle. He followed her.

"Wait" she said when they were in the hallway "I'll take this candle with us, or perhaps the torch is better, we'll need it." She started blindly searching the table near the door. "There it is" she announced triumphantly and took the torch from the table, then she handed it to Dempsey. "Here you go, you can light… the… fi…"

His palm covered the shaft of the torch and her fingers, deliberately slowly, caressingly. "You mentioned something like _lightin' a fire_ , Tiger?"

The world turned suddenly upside down, at least Harry felt like it. She felt a heavy lump growing in her stomach. They were standing so close to each other, they were feeling the warmth of their bodies. His eyes were burning in dimness _. Oh God._ She bit her lower lip.

"Dempsey…"

Dempsey held his breath. Instinctively he waited for more.

Suddenly the lamp on the ceiling flickered and got burnt with the dazzling light - the power was restored. And at the very same time, the answer device in the lounge screeched loudly - it always booted up itself after a power break - and all of the sudden, Simon's cheerful voice has filled the room, hitting them unexpectedly like a bucket of ice cold water.

"Hi Har, I have some fine books for you, I'll be near by going home so I'll come over and give them to you and maybe you'll give me a cup of tea in return, so, see you later!"

That was too much for Dempsey. For the last thirty or something minutes he's been living in the world of no Simons; the unexpected return to the reality has stabbed him in his chest with the dagger of fury. He looked at Harry who was totally baffled by this radical change of the atmosphere, her widened eyes, her lips parted in shock - and there was only one thing he could and he had to do now.

The kiss was sudden and fierce. She felt his arms wrapping around her waist, and then his mouth landed on hers. Shocked and startled, she automatically grabbed his shoulders, intending to push him away from her. But it was too late. He pushed her up against the wall, his lips attacked hers furiously, catching tightly her lower lip between his and immediately softening, covering and caressing it unbelievably softly; she felt his tongue sliding over it tenderly and sensuously, and suddenly a flame of passion burst inside her. Instead of pushing him away, she tightened the grip, clenching her hands on his shoulders, and she parted her lips under his tongue, eagerly inviting him to sink deeper, to try more. The feel of his body pressing her against the wall made her nearly unconscious.

She heard a loud moan muffled in her own throat as she felt his tongue caressing hers; his hands moved up her back to her neck and her hair; her own fingers sank in his thick damp hair pulling him closer and… and the doorbell rang loud as a thunder drowning out the furious thump of her own heart.

They pulled away from each other at the same second and looked at each other, shocked, delighted and angry before Harry turned round and wrenched the door knob with one shaking hand, smoothing her hair with another.

Simon was standing at the door with his common cheerful smile that gradually faded out as he looked at Harry and James in the hallway, both evidently off balanced and agitated.

"Errr…" he started uncertainly "errr.. Good evening. I am sorry…" he coughed suddenly embarrassed. "Ummm…" as a perceptive man he immediately sensed a tension.

Of all of them, Dempsey has recomposed himself first.

"Good evenin' Doc, come in and don't mind me, I was just leavin'." He shrugged and an ironical smile appeared on his face. "See you tomorrow in the office Harry" and he disappeared at the other side of the door before Harry managed to ask him furiously why the hell _he_ had felt free to invite Simon to _her_ house. She stood helpless and she didn't know whether her reaction should be "buzz off Dempsey you bastard!" or "come back here at once!"

What she knew for sure was she felt like starting to cry.

* * *

The night air was damp but warm and Dempsey didn't even remember he left his jacket at Harry's. He was walking quickly, fuelled with anger, trying to calm down. He was still deeply shocked at what had happened and angry at the bloody shrink who had had to appear just then, of all moments!...

But to be honest he kind of wanted to laugh nervously too. _Boy, what a night!_

Then his face darkened again and he walked a little slower, keeping his fists in his jeans' pockets. He had a lot to think about.

The thing was not that he wanted Harry. He's wanted her since the first time he put his eyes on her; why wouldn't he? She was sexy, attractive and he strongly suspected - well he has got some proofs of that already - that there was the fire under this ice that just needed to be released carefully and wisely. She was an exciting possibility, one of the many the world has offered him, tempting because unreachable, yet still just a possibility. The more she rejected his advances, the more she mocked his attempts, the more it turned him on all the time. Even when he understood he was wasting his time - first, because at the beginning she had hated his guts, and then they became friends while the golden rule says "never fuck your best friend" - he still wanted her. But this fact never disturbed him bedding other women, after all he was just a single man and he had his needs!

So the thing wasn't he wanted her. The thing was, now he wanted her and only her.

He didn't know when it all had started, it must've been a slow unnoticeable process, but he remembered when he understood his feelings for her. It was on the day he thought the bastard Coltrane had shot her. It wasn't the moment the good old Butch told him she had been shot dead - he felt "only" shock, anger and despair, and hate for Coltrane. The moment he understood was when he saw her alive, standing thirty feet away from him, with her gun aimed in his head while he was going to shoot Coltrane. The relief was so overwhelming that his knees melted and he was goggling at her with no thought in his mind. And then, just a second later, the flash of understanding, the wonderful feeling has hit him, at the same moment when she shouted:

" _I care about you Dempsey, but if you fire that gun I swear I'll shoot you."_

Now he couldn't even remember when the last time he had a one night stand was! And now when he thought about a nice evening in a nice company, it didn't mean a bar, a girl, a bed anymore! It meant _the_ place, _the_ girl, a bottle of wine and a nice chat. Well, it would mean a bed too, yes, of course but now the difference was getting in bed with her wasn't an end itself anymore. Now he wanted her... for keeps.

For months he has tried not to think about it, after all, what could he offer her? They were like day and night, they differed from each other in everything but the place of work. She was the lady, he was a streetwise New Yorker from a working class family, born on the wrong side of the tracks. Her father was a Lord, his father was a mechanic. This would never work out, not even for a while. Then he did his best to keep his feelings under the lid, buried deeply in the far corner of his mind, but instinctively he just knew one day the lid would pop up, the feelings and emotions would burst and he wouldn't be able to keep them back when they had been kept before. And it just happened, apparently.

 _Is it what they call love, you idiot?_

If only this bloody device hadn't started playing the message of the bloody shrink! If only the bloody shrink hadn't come over! There would've been no kiss, they could've continued their _conversation_ , perhaps it would at least have led them to a point. Well perhaps they'd kiss as well, oh bloody hell what a kiss it was. Dempsey would bet he'd never ever experienced something like that in his entire life before. Jesus Christ, and her reaction, only a thought of it made him weak at the knees. No _just a friend_ would react like that at just a kiss. No kiss like that would be _just a kiss_. Her arms around his neck, her soft lips parting, eager, inviting, coaxing him to try more, her body clinging to his…

Perhaps it was a mistake that he left. Perhaps he should have stayed, grabbed the bloody Simon's collar and kicked him out of the house… he grinned involuntary. Well that would be something! Although, Harry wouldn't rather be impressed.

But anyway, that _was_ a mistake, he should have stayed.

To hell with that. Now what? They do need to talk. When he's home he'd call her, as soon as possible, to strike when the iron's hot.

No. The damn shrink may still be there. Dempsey felt something in his chest tightened. What are they doing now, at Harry's place?...

He needs to wait till tomorrow, ask her to go for lunch… no, dinner. And then they'll talk. But how it will be, tomorrow? If she's mad at him now, or confused, how will she act when they meet at the office in the morning?

If only this bloody shrink hadn't appeared at all in their life. The bloody perfect posh match for Harry…

* * *

Harry sat down, looking heavily at Dempsey's jacket hanging from the chair.

 _I'd rather die than bring it back to him tomorrow._

She rested her head on her arms. Oh, God, how on earth all this happened? And now what? Tomorrow she must go to the factory, as usual, and look him in the eye. She moaned desperately. The kiss itself wasn't that embarrassing. Her reaction on it, however, bloody was.

She remembered the sudden electric jolt that rippled through her body at the very moment she felt his mouth on hers. The urge, the desire, the thoughtlessness, the lack of control, joy, happiness. She'd never felt that happy while being kissed before. She'd never lost control at anything. And she'd never returned any kiss with so much... enthusiasm. Enthusiasm?! _Who are you kidding, Harry, had it not been for Simon coming around you'd have ended up on the sofa in the best case, if not on the floor of the hallway!_

No. She shouldn't think like that. She surely would have collected herself, after that first moment of vulnerability. She'd have pushed him away, asked him to leave…

Bloody Dempsey. What had tempted him? What had tempted _her_?! Harry sighed. She'd known it was getting dangerous, she should have asked him to go, she shouldn't have just sat with him in the kitchen, side by side, she shouldn't have let him talk with this low dark voice and look at her like…

 _That hungry look._ She'd known it, she'd seen it but she hadn't done anything about it. _Makepeace, you're a hell of an idiot._

She stood up and left the kitchen, went upstairs and ran the bath. This was finally the moment to soak in hot water and calm down a bit. Waiting for the bathtub to be filled up she got undressed and looked at the big mirror on the wall. Her face was tired and her eyes were restless. She looked, however, at her entire body with a kind of the great appreciation. Thirty-two and looking really good, this was the effect of hours of the physical activity and proper food. She moved her hands down her body. Yes, she wouldn't look that good if she ate junk food, and spent hours on the sofa watching TV, so to say.

Her mind flew away again from the safe place to what had happened in the hallway just an hour ago. She stared at herself in the mirror, with the unseeing eyes, slowly moving her palms caressingly down over her breasts, waist, belly and hips, and up again, and down again. Suddenly she realised what she was doing.

 _Enough, Makepeace. Get into the bath now!_

Lying in the tub she closed her eyes and tried to relax.

She needs to be calm tomorrow. The best she could do is to act like nothing had happened. This is the only way to get things to normal again, otherwise their work together might be at risk and rather difficult. No comments about the evening. And she wouldn't let him make any. They're a marvellous tandem, nothing's gonna interfere with their perfect teamwork. So she needs to quieten the troubled water down as soon as possible, starting the very morning. She can't be nervous or confused. Full professional attitude. And he'd be grateful: she knew work was the most important thing for him as well.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"Dempsey!"

Dempsey reluctantly stopped on his way upstairs to the office.

"Good to see you. I've just received some additional information about the crime scene. Some pictures and a detailed map. Why don't we have a look right now?"

"OK."

"Besides, the Dalley family wants a cremation in The States. The Foreign Office will call today and seems we'll be really busy and…"

Dempsey raised his hand.

"One thing at the time. Don't hurry. Actually you're bombarding me with the information, have mercy, Chas."

"Sorry" Chas smirked "it's because you were away yesterday the whole day long and didn't report at the end of the day. No, don't worry, we have had problem with communication here in the factory, due to this bloody thunderstorm. Sorry. Let's go and start with a coffee first."

* * *

Chas spread the photos and papers out on his desk and they all - himself, Dempsey, Fry and Dave leaned across looking at them. Dempsey looked quickly at the wall clock. _Ten to eight_. _She'll be here in a while._

 _Jeezas, how will it be like? Will she be mad at him, confused, or on the contrary, friendly or perhaps… content to see him?..._

"Sorry guys I don't even allow you to drink your coffee at peace", Chas said, looking at his colleagues handling their mugs "but believe me things have got hotter since yesterday afternoon.

 _Indeed they have._

"The Foreign Office called twice yesterday. Besides, the forensic guys were late with this updated map of the crime scene. Spikings has called me at eleven thirty last night and it was just ten minutes after I got home. He told me to assign also Dave and Tom to the case. We'll discuss everything when Harry and Spikings are here, right now I just wanted you to have a quick look at the photos."

"Harry will be mad when she gets here" Fry sighed.

"Why d'ya think so?" Dempsey couldn't halt this question.

"Because we've started without her."

"We haven't and she won't" Chas explained "I called her on my way to the factory, to warn her about what she may face here."

 _Me._

He only heard the door being open but without turning his head a fraction he knew it was she who entered the room. His heart made a flip so he casually bent over the photos with great interest but all his senses were extremely sharpened.

Harry walked towards Chas' desk. "Morning boys. What have you got here?" Her voice was calm and impassive. She took one of the photos off the table. "Ah, another set of pictures of the Athertons' garden?"

She sensed the tension of the entire Dempsey's body when she just stood near him. She was wondering if he sensed the same tension of hers.

"Well, yes" Chas confirmed, a bit surprised Dempsey didn't answer first "we finally got these. Must show them to Spikings."

"You will in a while, I saw him parking" Harry turned and walked to the coffee corner. Dempsey risked a glance; her face was peaceful and neutral, with no sign of any emotions. She poured herself a mug of coffee and returned to her desk without a single word or a single look at him.

 _That's how you're going to play it, honey? All right then._

This was definitely a rejection and it gutted him like hell. It looked much worse than on that day when their partnership had got on the edge and he had nearly booked a flight back to New York as he just hadn't been able to stand the presence of this toffee-nosed, arctic, snooty cat by his side. It looked much worse than after that night at Stringfellows when she'd been cold and distant but also uncertain, confused, embarrassed. And - last but not least - mad like hell at him. Now, there was no trace of any of these emotions. She acted as if he didn't exist at all. And it bloody hurt. He squeezed his jaws and turned his head.

Harry felt his gaze and felt a kind of guilty but simply couldn't force herself to look back at him. She started searching her bag for a pen. It all was much more difficult that she had thought it to be.

She really thought she'd be able to act normally like nothing had happened; now she understood how silly it was. She _should_ act normally but doing that properly was completely another matter... She couldn't act as if it was another usual day because it wasn't.

Spikings stormed the office vigorously, he nearly knocked Dave down and trampled him; the poor man hardly managed to jump aside. The boss stopped and quickly swept the entire office with his eyes.

"Briefing" he barked shortly and walked towards his office door. Fry followed him eagerly, Harry - a bit less eagerly; the others - Dempsey, Chas, Dave and Tom - straggled them reluctantly. The rest of the team joined them as well after a while.

Spikings took his seat behind the desk and waited till they sat on the chairs.

"All right" he said when everyone sat more or less comfortably "seems we are at war with the American Embassy. Major Danby defends the outpost bravely at the moment but he requests action from our side immediately otherwise he may as well hang the white flag out. So may you please, Dempsey, Makepeace, fill us in with the revelations of yesterday?"

Of all words Spikings could have chosen these were the worst. Harry felt a hot flush hitting her cheeks and wasn't able to restrain herself from a quick glance at her partner knowing that if she saw him grinning stupidly or something like that the result would be very poor for him. Dempsey, however, sat in his chair with his head down low,his hair falling down over his eyes, playing with a rubber band stripped off the roll of papers he held on his lap. His only reaction could be a slight unamused twitch of the corner of his mouth. Suddenly he looked lost and vulnerable to her and she felt a pity for him. She felt the urge to give him a comforting look or even a smile. But now it wasn't the time. Besides, it would be unwise. Besides, it was pointless... as he still kept his eyes off her.

Since Spikings looked at her expectantly, Harry has switched herself onto the professional mode in a flash.

"Well, yesterday we visited a film set where Dalley had worked" she started "and I'll leave it to Dempsey and Fry to report this as I left them and went to the City to meet a lawyer Mrs Summerside who, as we've been told, was Dalley's lover. What I was able to determine was Dalley had rather been a nasty kind of man. I mean their relationship was purely physical, with no emotional bounds but I was given a picture of his rather… kinky sexual inclinations and tastes which may give us a clue..." She noticed few stupid smirks of some of her colleagues and looked at them sharply; some of them lowered their heads abruptly as if they had noticed something dirty on their shoe points. "I will lose the detailed description of those, everything will be in my written report I will finish right after the briefing". _It was a lie, she hasn't even started writing it._ "But I had quite a nice long chat with Mrs Summerside and finally she revealed something more than their common bed adventures…" It occurred to her that in the normal situation Dempsey would be dying to hear all the yummy details of Dalley's sex life from her and he would nag her about telling him everything from the first moment he'd have found out there were any, now she was sure he wouldn't. She continued calmly: "Dalley had hots for young inexperienced naïve women, he liked being their guide into the adult life if you catch my drift. And what is important, one of these girls has committed suicide after he'd broken up with her. It was in April 1982."

"Do we know why?" Spikings asked.

"No, not yet. At the moment our boys have been looking for her name as Mrs Summerside didn't know that. It won't be difficult to determine it, I've collected some addresses of people he would meet here in England on regular basis and again our team has been working on them already. I left some of them for myself as I know one or two of these guys personally. Jason Dalley had been very keen on English high society, I had witnessed that at this party that had occurred to be so… unlucky for him: he'd been overexcited being there, at the Athertons I mean. So I guess we might have some results yet today. I am going to ask here and there, upper class gossips as much as everyone" she added sarcastically.

"Anything more?"

"That's all, Sir." She fell silent and closed her notebook. Spiking noted something, then he raised his head and looked at her steadily.

"All right, thank you. Dempsey?"

Dempsey leaned back in his chair and sat more comfortably.

"OK what Harry determined matches some interestin' things I got, we got with Fry, from the guys we interrogated at the filmset. We've sent all these cute chicks away and talked to the men only, ya know it works, male braggin'... I must say Fry was really good at tryin' to break the ice and tellin' them stories I believe to be only the creation of his fantasies 'cause well I hope he wouldn't have been able to do all these things." A wave of slight chuckle ran over the room and Makepeace thought she would give a month salary to know what the bloody Fry had talked about! Fry and the naughty stories! Fry's cheeks were the colour of beetroot while he tried to put a good face and stay cool. _I'll treat him lunch one day and get the details out of him_ , Harry decided. That thought put her suddenly in a little better mood.

"Anyway, yeah, Dalley was known amon' his mates as a guy who liked playin' dirty, really dirty, there's a guy who's an assistant to the sound director and they used to go out together to some places in Soho. I think we need to contact the vice and ask for a cooperation, they're much more familiar with all this crap. But I'm gonna meet one of my snouts tonight, he'll may give me sumthin'. Will let ya know later."

"So what were _some places in Soho_?" Spikings demanded. "A simple brothel, or something more, erm, _sophisticated_?"

"I'd say, Boss, there are some sporting houses in this country that provide you with ev'rythin' you have paid for. Even if you demand a groundhog in a ballet tutu, you'll get it if you have enough rocks in your pocket."

Spikings winced. "Restrain yourself Leftenant from these picturesque language, save it for later for a girl" he remonstrated. Dempsey's face darkened a bit but after a second he recomposed himself.

"I wouldn't tell _any_ girl" - only Harry picked up a little emphasis on the word _any -_ "what I will tell ya now. Dalley liked watching. T'is not a perversion itself, after all we all happened to watch a porn movie once in our life however I don't like Dalley's way of doin' it. The guy from the film set, oh by the way his name's Sonny Ducrue, said Dalley used to pay for a pair of Vietnamese of Chinese teenagers who had to do what he instructed them to…"

A moan of disgust spread over the inner office.

"... and then he would join them for the _grande finale_. That's all." Dempsey closed his black notebook.

"Did this Ducrue join Dalley in these... practices?" Harry asked automatically. Dempsey didn't look at her.

"No, of course not. He says he only heard about it, he was an innocent guy shaggin' a hoe in a room while Dalley was entertainin' himself in another one. They always say that."

"I love these people" Spikings sighed. "Did the guy reveal anything more?"

"No but one of the guards told me Dalley was completely crazy about dogs."

"He what?"

"Was crazy about dogs. He loved dogs. He couldn't have got past a dog without having stopped and talked to it. Don' look at me like that Boss, it's not a funny story to improve the mood, that's a fact. And dogs reciprocated this feelin'. I dunno whether this information will do anythin' good for us but I think it's an interestin' piece of the Dalley's jigsaw, so…"

Spikings looked at him suspiciously.

"You are really very poetic today, Dempsey. I just hope you don't stay like that for longer. Don't want to listen to your Shelley recitation again."

Dempsey grinned. "It's because today is the day when the Americans are obligated to read one randomly chosen page of an encyclopedia."

"Right, let's go back to the topic" Spikings barked "anything else? OK. I want to see your reports on my desk tonight. Now go and do your job. And remember I have the Foreign Office and the US Embassy over my head. I want results. Lack of results make me very unhappy. And when I am unhappy, remember, you will be much more unhappy very soon."

* * *

Of course they _had_ to talk to each other, they were at work and couldn't spend the whole working day in a stony silence. For both it was a kind of relief when they exchanged these few words during the briefing; at least it broke the current stalemate. It was easier then when they sat together with Fry, Chas, Tom and Dave to discuss the plans for the day, they could talk almost casually, although none of them addressed the words directly to another one; they rather said the words into space, addressing them to all people at the desk rather than to someone particular, without a single glance at each other. It was a progress anyway; and a wise thing given that it was only the question of time they would have to cooperate again as a duo, as usual. Harry got the impression that Chas sensed something, judging from some watchful looks she's caught during their discussion. Anyway, at least he definitely noticed the limited communication between Dempsey and her, that was obvious. Harry thought glumly that the last thing she needed now was Mona Hughes to be seconded to the case in charge of the vice squad; _she_ would sniff the issue out immediately.

Chas has made a summary of the information that was in their possession, in fact after two days the results weren't really awesome.

"Spikings will eat us alive" Dempsey, who informally took a lead in their small team, murmured "I'm already feeling a bit gnawed. Chas, do we have any news regarding the name of the late girl?"

Chas, who was just dialing a number, kept the handset between his chin and shoulder and threw up his hands in a helpless gesture. Harry took her phone book from her bag and made her way to the desk.

"Let's see if the family can help" she announced into space and dialed the number. She waited a while, then asked: "May I speak to Mr Albert Winfield, please. My name's Harriet Makepeace."

Dempsey looked at his notes, pretending completely lost in it, but he tried not to lose a word from Makepeace's conversation.

"Hi Bertie, it's Harriet. Your favourite cousin" she laughed lightly. "How is it going? … Great, I am glad to hear that. Me? Oh, pretty good, I can't complain, indeed. You know as they say, no news is good news…"

Dempsey sighed listening to this twittering which was apparently necessary in this case, trying to recall the name Harry mentioned. He seemed not to have met an Albert Winfield in the past, surely not at any of the occasions he had visited Winfield Hall, like last Christmas.

"Listen Bertie… how about lunch? … Yes, today. … Yes of course there's something I'd like to talk about, otherwise I wouldn't call you today out of the blue. … Yes, thanks, I appreciate you appreciate my honesty... But on the other hand it would be nice to meet. … All right, one o'clock then, where? … Good, I'll be there. Thanks, see you, bye!"

 _And that's how she managed to stay away from me during the lunch break. Oooook._

Harry finished the call with this special high pitch of a voice "byeeee", reserved for people we're going to be kind to, and returned to the table they were sitting at. Dempsey was reviewing notes, to keep his hands busy, but also trying to find out anything else that could help them.

"Seems we got it" Chas, excited a bit, gave Dempsey a piece of paper. "The name of the girl. Jennifer Thealy, aged nineteen on the day of her death. Father moved to New Zealand few months later, mother currently lives in a care home in Essex. It would be rather easy to find out where they were and what they were doing on the day of Dalley's death."

"Any brothers, sisters?" Harry asked.

"Two brothers, one in Manchester, another one in prison in Exeter."

"Since when?" This question was asked by Dempsey and Makepeace in unison. They both couldn't help but throw a brief glance at each other, reverting their eyes off quickly.

"Since 1983" Chas checked. "I think we can leave him off the hook. Unless of course he's got a devoted friend from a cell, currently on the outside."

"OK, that's for Dave" Dempsey decided "take this bit, mate and check. Fry, you're comin' with Harry and me to the care home."

"As you may have heard I have an encounter with my cousin, he may tell me something about Dalley's contacts" Harry pointed out quietly.

"No problem, we'll go when you have finished this lunch" he cut in dryly. Harry squeezed her jaws but said nothing. She noticed another curious look of Chas and decided not to carry on; it was safer not to; _you planned to behave as nothing had happened so do it,_ she admonished herself.

"Guys, contact the police in Manchester", Dempsey continued, "we want information about the second bro tomorrow at the latest. What he does, where he's been on the day of the murder, and so on."

"You are quite good at taking the lead", Chas said without any cattiness, just matter-of-factly. He smiled at his colleague but Dempsey did not return the smile.

"I would be also very good at laying my head under the guillotine manned by Spikings when we have no results. OK, let's have a word with him and then up to work. We have some time to finish the reports of" he paused hardly perceptibly "the events of yesterday."


	15. Chapter 15

_All right, the idea of lighting a fire (this one in the fireplace, I mean… ;-) ) during the warm and damp summer night was a huge error of mine. But I realised it too late, after the chapter has been published already! :D I guess it's because of the scene in_ Jericho Scam _when they were sitting on the floor at Harry's fireplace, arguing - the scene I like in particular (and I think most of us do?). Let's assume Dempsey has suggested it just to keep his hands busy with something ;)_

 _And: this chapter is for_ _ **Debbie**_ _:) Have fun tonight, dear!_

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

"It was really nice to see you" Makepeace kissed her cousin on his cheek. "And I am feeling a bit guilty, to be honest, I invited you only because I needed something from you."

Bertie Winfield laughed friendly, his equine face brightened up, his eyes twinkled with humour. Harry thought her cousin was a really good mate; never angry, never resentful, always cool. She promised herself to invite him once just for a nice friendly gossip family dinner some day.

"No problem, dear, you know I have a soft spot for you. I'll always be there for you. Always my little cousin. I am sorry I haven't helped much. Hope you'll find the murderer anyway. You're Winfield, you are a clever girl."

Harry smiled to herself, walking to the street where she and the boys had agreed to meet. Lunch with Bertie didn't bring any new crucial information but helped a little. Unfortunately the nice feeling vanished like blown out when she went around the corner and saw her Ford parked there, and Dempsey and Fry propping on the bonnet, waiting for her. Bloody hell. Fry looked at her and smiled cheerfully, Dempsey didn't even raised his eyes, reading a newspaper.

 _Well if it's going to be like that now, my future is really shiny and bright,_ Harry thought.

She walked directly to the driver's door. "We can go" she announced dryly "I'll tell you everything on the way." Dempsey screw the paper and throw it to a bin, straightening up lazily.

Harry didn't intend to let anyone of them drive; if Dempsey drove she would have to sit aside him and see his cold face, if Fry did, she'd be pushed onto the back seat and feel like a poor relation, forgotten by everyone, _oh God, Makepeace, you're silly._ At least driving would help her to focus on the road.

Fry huddled in the back, looking at his colleagues, waiting for a conversation to start but to his amazement neither Dempsey nor Harry were eager for that. Dempsey waited until Harry left the crowded streets before he took his little black notebook out of the breast pocket of his shirt and asked, clicking the pen: "So, anything interesting?"

She geared up at the green light and moved forward. "Unfortunately, not much. My cousin knew a little about Dalley and only heard gossips about his... hobby, but he gave me a name of the place this… Ducrue? had told you about. It's in Soho and it's called The Black Marketeer. A kind of a poor bar where anyone can have a drink but of course can't go any further without a special recommendation."

"Okay, that's something. Let's radio Chas and ask him to check that place. I'll go there tonight."

" _We_ will" she corrected him immediately. He sighed.

"I think that…"

" _We_ will, Dempsey" Harry repeated through her gritted teeth. Unlike her, she was about to explode. What did he think he was doing? They were still partners, for god's sake! How could he suggest he would be going to work on his own?!

Only Fry's presence held her back from yelling into his face what she thought, what she felt, what she was afraid of.

After a moment of heavy silence she heard: "All right. Eight o'clock."

Fry was sitting silently at the back seat. For the first time today he sensed there was something wrong between his colleagues. Fry was a simple boy, smart and skilled enough to work in the exclusive police department but not very good at reading people's emotions. However even he could notice the unnatural silence between the usually chatting, flirting and bantering partners. It felt so strange! He got used to see them always together, walking, talking, arguing, sometimes angry or furious at one another but he never witnessed the atmosphere between them like that.

"Guys, have you watched a good film lately?" he asked cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood. Unfortunately he failed. Harry didn't even answer, and Dempsey looked at him in the driving mirror and murmured: "Yeah, ' _The Man Who Talked Too Much_ ', a very impressive study of reasons for a crime."

Fry fell silent, confused.

* * *

The care home turned out to be a big but cosy white building in the middle of the old park and green lawns. It would look like a glamorous posh residence but for people walking the paths or sitting on the benches or in wheelchairs being pushed by nurses in light blue uniforms - disabled people, small, shrunken, walking slowly or sitting motionlessly. Harry thought she'd rather kill herself than agree for such a miserable life.

Had Dempsey similar thoughts, he didn't show them at all. He jumped out of the car and hurried towards the house entrance; she and Fry followed his suit. A black-haired girl at the reception desk saw over his warrant card carefully and asked them to sit down in the comfortable armchairs at the air-conditioned lobby, then she picked up the receiver and having dialled a number, she exchanged few quiet words with someone at the other end of the line.

They haven't waited long; a minute later a tall woman in the uniform walked out of the corridor and come to them; she introduced herself as Nora, the assistant to the headmaster Mrs Holman and asked them to follow her. The headmaster, an elegant woman in her sixties, awaited them in her office.

"Mrs Thealy has been our pensioner since 1984", she explained. "After her daughter's tragic death she had an extensive stroke, she lived with her husband and sons then. The tragedy had broken the family, and after one of the sons got into prison Mr Thealy left for Australia or another far country, having left his wife here. Her stay here is paid by the other son who visits his mother once in a month."

"How is she?" Harry asked. "I mean after the stroke, is she able to communicate without any barriers?"

"Oh yes, she's quite fine, given her condition. Usually she's glad to have visitors although the subject you are going to raise may be very painful for her so I'd like to ask you to treat her gently."

"Yeah, of course" Dempsey ensured her seriously.

"Nora, my assistant, will go to Mrs Thealy now and you'll meet her on the terrace. I think half an hour is enough for you to talk to her."

"Thank you Mrs Holman" Harry stood up and smiled politely to the headmaster.

Julianne Thealy was a tiny white-headed woman with surprisingly young blue eyes. She was sitting in a wheelchair being pushed by Nora. She looked at her visitors with curiosity.

"Nora has told me the reason of your visit already" she said with beautiful melodious voice. "I don't know if I can help, but feel free to ask."

Nora stopped the wheelchair at the white round table they were sitting at and left the terrace. Harry looked at the boys and decided to start.

"Mrs Thealy, my name's DS Makepeace and together with my colleagues Lieutenant Dempsey and DC Fry we investigate the murder of Jason Dalley. We would like to talk about his relationship with your late daughter. I understand this is difficult for you but we would be very grateful if you gave us some information about the nature of this relationship and…" she interrupted, uncertain of how much she should demand all at once from this fragile woman.

Mrs Thealy smiled at her.

"I suppose you also wanted to ask about my alibi, didn't you? Well as you can see we can drop this subject. Unless you suspect this wheelchair is a camouflage and in fact I am able to walk, run and go to London to kill someone" she pointed with humour and a nice twinkle in her eyes.

Harry couldn't stop a smile. "No, that's all right, I won't ask you about your alibi. But could you tell us some words about your daughter now?"

"Oh yes, of course." Mrs Thealy fell silent for a while, staring into space, lost in her thoughts.

"Jenny was a girl we could call a ray of sunshine in our life" she started. "She was a late child, she was born when her brothers were sixteen and fourteen. I was frightened having known I got pregnant, I was forty one, my husband forty six. We had two nearly grown up boys and the news was a shock for us all. But we decided to keep this baby."

She interrupted for a while, smoothing her skirt, then started talking again: "Her birth has brought a lot of joy into our lives. She was smart, nice, cheerful, she was a very good pupil, with a lot of friends, very good at maths, but also with many other talents…"

Dempsey moved in his chair impatiently. He didn't feel like listening to the paeans about another wunderkind and it seemed the old lady was going to spout about it. He wanted to say something but Harry shook her head, only a little, but he understood. She passed him a message: _Don't. Let her talk._

"She had also a talent for acting, she joined a special interest group for acting at school. It was her great passion. And that's how she met Dalley - there was a casting for a role in a TV series for teenagers. Jennifer didn't get this role but Jason picked her up. She fell in love head over heels with him. When we found out who her beloved was we were concerned - he was thirty three, a film director with a long history of his conquests. Not a very good thing for a eighteen-year-old innocent naïve smalltown girl. But what could we do? She didn't listen, she was being attracted to him like a moth to a flame."

"It's painful to see your only daughter being so much in love with a wrong person. You see her being incredibly happy, you see her flying three feet above the ground and you know it does not bode well. And you can't do anything about it."

"She told me he was her first man and he made her happy. Now I know I should have done something, I don't know what, but I should."

"Shortly after that she got unhappy, she didn't reveal anything in particular but this relationship made her upset, he destroyed her joy of life, showed her too many bad things; she knew that but couldn't break these chains. Once she told me in despair she wished she'd never met him. Even then I wasn't able to help her, this thought will always obsess me until I die."

"She was very quiet when she told me he'd broken up with her. She said she suffered it and needed to think everything over. She refused to get a comfort from me, went upstairs to her room, and we found her dead on the following day."

The silence lasted a bit too long.

"Has she left a letter or somethin', Mrs Thealy?" it was Dempsey quiet, calm voice.

"A note, yes. She wrote he had shown her a dark side of life so bad that she wouldn't have made it without him, when he had left her."

"And what happened next?" asked Dempsey again. "I mean, you're livin' here, your hubby's in Australia, one son has landed in jail, why is that?"

"Jenny's death has shattered us all, Mr Dempsey" Mrs Thealy looked at him with piercing eyes surrounded by the net of wrinkles. Despite her young eyes she looked very old for her age, Dempsey thought. "I got a stroke and left the hospital three month after my daughter's funeral. I've found my home and family completely devastated, it wasn't home and a family anymore. My husband has completely got into his shell, we've been trying to get him out of there but that was of no use... My elder son Myron had his own family then but the younger Ronny was always a weak man, having problem with job, relationships and integrity, manipulated by his pals, impressionable… They say he is slightly educationally subnormal but anyway I hadn't brought up my children well, that's for sure."

 _Neither had you your husband"_ Harry thought with a kind of a gallows humour.

"Ronny got to jail for car steal and battery" the old woman picked up the thread again "and just one day my husband came to me and said he couldn't stand it anymore. His life got a total misery and at the age of sixty seven he needed to save what was yet to be saved. He promised to find me _a good place to live_ " a bitterness appeared in her voice for the first time she's been talking. "When my elder son found out his father was going to leave me he got furious, he broke the relation off and has never spoken to him again. He pays for this place by the way."

"Why don't you live with him?" asked Dempsey, visibly moved.

"His wife doesn't like me" the answer was short. "And if you want to know why I haven't stopped my husband from leaving the country and me, it's simple: you can't stop the storm when it's already started."

* * *

They said goodbye to Mrs Thealy, thanked Nora and Mrs Holman and left the building in the bleak mood. Harry couldn't help but think about the old lady left alone by everyone in that place and locked in the disobedient body, depending on unfamiliar people.

Fry's thoughts must have followed the same way as suddenly he said: "I think I'm going to visit my grandma this weekend. It's been a while since we saw each other recently." He gave Dempsey an uncertain look as if he expected a sarcastic remark about this sentimental crap.

But Dempsey only nodded. "Do it, boy." Then he looked at Makepeace. "May I drive now?"

She handed him keys and went to the passenger side. Now she really should think about the report for Spikings.

* * *

The Black Marketeer was a regular dump. Dirty walls, sticky floor and tables that remembered their better days, for sure. To Harry's surprise not only the locals sat here, but there were also quite many tourist looking guys there, which of course made their job this evening easier.

Harry tried not to put her elbow in the wet splash on the table and looked around with disgust. Her eyes caught the look of Fry who took a seat near the entry. Fry was playing with the half-emptied glass of beer looking rather hopeless. It had been thought to be his undercover, _I'll try to look like a guy just having been left by the love of his life or something like that, perhaps they'd offer me something to comfort me._ Well, as Makepeace thought, he failed. He looked rather lost and bored.

Then she put her eyes on Dempsey sitting beside her. As it was a corner table he couldn't sit across from her, which she was pretty sure he would if the table was more to the middle of the room. The table was very small; avoiding any contact with her like an accidental touch Dempsey was staring at his glass but from time to time his close look scanned the room full of loud people. It was difficult to say what he had expected coming here - surely not a pimp hanging around and offering a forbidden treat to the guests?

"Do you think we're gonna find out anything here?" she asked. "Anything in particular? Seems we're wasting our time."

He cast her a look of exasperation. "That's what we are paid for" he noticed without a slightest trace of humour in his voice. "Wastin' our time like that."

She couldn't read anything from his face but definitely sensed he was somehow on the edge. "Look, what I mean is…"

"I told you I'd come here alone" he interrupted her irritably. "You really didn't have to _waste_ your time here with me!"

"Don't start again! I told you I wanted to come here!"

"Then be quiet and don't fuss about."

She couldn't believe his rudeness. Yes, they haven't been getting along now but that wasn't the excuse.

"I am really impressed by your behaviour, Dempsey" she couldn't help but remark sarcastically and bitterly. "Thought you would be able to restrain yourself from impoliteness just sometimes."

He threw her a look that made her feel chilled to the bone.

"Then you thought wrong. Stop yammering, Harry. I'm sick of it."

 _You mean you're sick of me,_ Harry thought to herself.

They were talking in hissed tones but rather quietly and it could have seemed to be a lovers' row in other people's eyes and ears.

Suddenly Harry heard Dempsey gasped sharply and without warning he took her in his arms and pulled her close, which for any observers might have looked like an unexpected making up and a burst of forgiveness, tenderness and passion. Harry however had no doubts that wasn't the case and the quite unloving grip of his hand on her shoulder assured her there she was right. His face was only an inch away and she just hissed "What on earth are you…?"

"For god's sake Harry shut up and don't move" he murmured nearly touching her lips with his while his eyes alighted upon something right behind her right shoulder.

"What's going on?" she asked desperately.

"It's Lymon" he breathed against her mouth.

"Lymon?!"

She could hardly believe it. Of all people, they had to be spotted by Keith Lymon, the biggest Dempsey's enemy, his obsession and a psycho?...

"Did he notice us?" she asked, still being in this strong grip of his.

"I'm sure he noticed me, dunno 'bout you" it was strange and quite intimate to talk like that, mouth to mouth, only millimeters away, in this dirty loud pit, almost exactly twenty four hours after The Kiss.

"But he didn't?..."

"No. He just looked at me and went away, as if I was invisible. He's leavin' now and so should we before he's back with his mates, you never know" Dempsey let go of her and straightened up, looking around carefully.

They stood up and went to the door passing Fry's table without exchanging glances with him; they knew Fry would follow their suit in few minutes. Dempsey left the bar first, he stopped and then, seeing no suspicious people in sight he walked towards the far end of the street, without waiting for her.

Anger has caught her throat in an iron clasp, adrenalin surged through her; she quickened her pace and caught him up, grabbing his arm and yanking him backwards **.** He stopped and looked at her madly.

"What do you want, Makepeace?"

"Just an answer to one question" she hissed coldly through the gritted teeth like she never did before, her cheeks flushing. "I want to know what gives you the right to think you are entitled to behave so insultingly towards me?"

He regarded her carefully, as if searching for something in her face. Apparently he didn't find it and smiled cynically, looking in her eyes.

"You thought I'd do it again, didn't you? And you were terrified I would?"

She let go of him and looked at him, confused and astounded.

"What are you talking about, for heaven's sake, Dempsey?"

"You don't need to deny it, Harry. You've all stiffened when you thought I wanted to kiss you again, haven't ya? But don't worry: I didn't and I never will again. Lesson learnt. I will only try to accept the fact I repel you that much and won't even ask why."

These few cruel words made her turned into stone. In shock she hasn't heard the spoken despair in his voice, she only managed to gasp out few words:

"How… how dare you… say that… How dare you say that you... " she interrupted, trying to catch her breath.

He continued with this quiet, dangerous voice of his:

"I think I don't need to walk you home, do I? Your car is right there, so no danger someone would try to harm you… and regret it then of course." He turned around and walked away.

Harry got in her car, slamming the door loudly and for a long time she was just sitting motionless, fighting the tears welling up in her eyes. She couldn't think a single thought, was devastated.

Dempsey stood in the shadow at the corner of the street; he saw her car was still there. For the moment he felt the urge to go back, to walk towards her, open the car door, drag her out of the car and… And what?

He sighed and kept on walking his way. Perhaps it was a time to find a bar, a whisky, a willing girl and to forget all that crap.


	16. Chapter 16

_Well it's been so quiet here lately so I hope you like this!_

* * *

 **Chapter 16**

After a completely sleepless night Harry has made up her mind, talk to Dempsey as soon as possible. His words had hurt her but also had made her being asking difficult questions to herself and she knew she needed to know the answers. She went to the office, determined to ask him out for lunch or just a private talk in a quiet place, she couldn't stand this horrible uncertainty.

However when she arrived to the office there was no trace of Dempsey there, and Chas told her Dempsey early in the morning had taken Dave and gone to do some legwork that day; he also had assigned the tasks to the rest of the team so it seemed he wouldn't be back soon. Harry swallowed the bitter taste of another defeat and focused on the _paperwork_ , ironically.

Besides, the boys in the office joked something about Dempsey's "late night, last night" and his rather worn-out look and smell which suggested he had spent the previous night with booze and, as they assumed, in a female company perhaps. Harry gritted her teeth and dropped the idea of talking to him. Apparently he hadn't felt the need for talking to her either, otherwise he wouldn't have kept avoiding her so deliberately. So she asked Fry to accompany her in duties within next few days.

Dempsey didn't waste his time, the next morning after the briefing he took a train to Manchester with Dave, to contact the local police and to interrogate Myron Thealy. They were expected to be back today in about the early afternoon. Harry needed to admit his actions made sense as he had assigned the tasks very reasonably but the fact he'd chosen Dave instead of her again was needling her unbelievably, and probably raised the silent speculations in the office. She even suspected already Dempsey had voluntarily taken the lead in their inquiry team just to have the unlimited possibility to avoid her as much as possible.

Now she was writing the report of yesterday - expecting a wave of Spikings' discontent as the results of the inquiry were still very unsatisfactory - but she couldn't get free of her obsessive thoughts.

 _I will only try to accept the fact I repel you that much._

Although she still felt pure anger remembering these horrible words - how could he even think like that? - she also experienced a kind of concern and fear.

Why the hell would he think he _repelled_ her? Might she have ever said or done anything that could make him think like that?... Unintentionally?

Well obviously not intentionally! _Repel?!_ While she… she…

Oh boy how she missed their good old days. Their bickering, the banter, the mugs of coffee being brought to her by him in the morning although it was he who was always horribly sleepyheaded, the report writing till late hours, quick drinks in a bar, watching films at her place, silly and playful evening telephone chats about everything and nothing. Even their arguing that got forgotten as quickly as it had started. Why did all this have to end in such a miserable way? Now when the telephone rang in the evening while she was at home she couldn't even hope it could be him - but she always did.

And she missed his smile, his infectious laughter that made her laugh too even when she was angry, his look, the warm gaze always making her secretly happy, an accidental touch that had become much less accidental within last few months… and, yes, she missed that touch of his hot lips on hers, too.

He hasn't been rude to her during these last few days - on the contrary he's been nice and polite, really nice and polite, neutral and very correct - like she was just an officer from another squad being seconded randomly to a difficult case for help. He smiled while talking to her but the smile never reached his eyes, they didn't crinkle in the corners, his right eyebrow didn't rise in a fake astonishment, there wasn't a sly twinkle in his look anymore when he looked at her.

And Harry had a feeling in the guts Dalley's murder would be the last case investigated by them together.

Spikings poked his head out of his office, looked around and put his eyes on Harry. Feeling his gaze, she raised her eyes. Spikings beckoned on her so Harry stood up to follow him.

"Sit down" Spikings pointed the chair opposite his desk. _Now I'll be given a lecture about the lack of progress in the investigation_ , Makepeace thought with discouragement. Bloody hell, again it was she who ended up in the firing line. Lucky Dempsey, lucky as always. She sat down and looked at the boss expectantly.

Spikings reached for a big white envelope sitting on his desk and returned Harry's gaze. He cleared his throat and began:

"Have you thought lately about your future at SI-10?"

She hadn't expected this kind of question and regarded him, astounded. What was that supposed to mean? Had he found out there was a tense atmosphere between her and Dempsey and decided to intervene? To reassign them to new partners? Harry couldn't imagine working with any other guy of the team, Dave for example, or Tom. The idea itself was ridiculous… _Chas must have noticed something and told him_ , she thought with horror. But his question was weird anyway...

"I beg your pardon, Sir?"

Spikings handed her the envelope. "It's the application form for a D. I. position. The good people on the top floor decided to promote a few good people within our division. It won't be too soon, only next year, but in my humble opinion of all potential candidates you stand the biggest chance for the promotion. Are you going to think it over?"

Harry felt dumbfounded and looked at Spikings as if she'd seen him for the first time in her life. She couldn't gather her thoughts in the first place. The boss was evidently awaiting her answer, so she tried: "I, I, Sir I am a bit surprised, it's so sudden… I wouldn't expect it for now, well I am sorry" she shook her head in amazement.

Spikings nodded. "Why don't you take the papers and think about it at home, do you. You still have time to consider all pros and contras… although I think there are many more pros than contras, I don't need to tell you it's a great chance for you and for all of us, to have the first female D. I. at our premises" he smiled briefly under the moustache. "You'd pass the exams with flying colours, we both know that."

"Yes… thank you Sir, I'll think about it and let you know… Soon, very soon" Harry was still bewildered and stared at Spikings daffily. Spikings felt a bit uncertain, he had known it would've been a surprise for her, but her reaction was a bit different from what he had expected. _Hesitation instead of determination_ , he thought to himself, and continued: "I will have to discuss the same with the bloody Yank of yours soon, we need to decide something about his future here or... there, back in the States. He's been here for more than three years already."

It felt like a bolt from the blue.

Spikings cleared his throat again.

"Umm, Sergeant… I am telling you that because I need to ask you… Have you ever… talked it over, you and Dempsey?"

Harry hummed and hawed in confusion. "Errr… what precisely, Sir?" For a second she thought in horror Spikings knew everything.

"About his… future" he defined with a shadow of irritation. "Did he ever mention what his plans were? Is he going to stay in England for good or he'd like to go back to the other side of the pond? Have you discussed it, ever? I know you're friends with each other so I assume this topic came up between you both once or twice?"

 _Shit. The way he said the word_ friends. _The old devil's not stupid._

"Not really, Sir" she forced herself to answer coolly. She realised just a couple of weeks ago she'd have assumed Dempsey would rather decide to stay in England than to go back to the US, now she'd rather be afraid he started packing his suitcases already. "There was no need to talk about it so far", she added and immediately she admonished herself for that.

Spikings rubbed his head with his hand and sighed heavily. "I understand. No need to talk about that. All right. Take the papers and you may go now. Thank you, Sergeant."

* * *

Harry returned to her desk and sat down back, staring dumbfounded at the envelope. Now, there was too much of everything for her these days. _Application for D. I.? Dempsey being asked soon to decide either to stay in England - apparently with the permanent work and residence permit - or to go back to NYPD?_ Well, it was supposed to happen rather sooner than later, as Spikings pointed out, Dempsey has been here for much longer than it had been agreed upon his arrival to England. He'd been supposed to stay here for a year only, which by the way had been a kind of a great consolation for her at the very rocky start of their partnership.

She rested her head on her clasped hands with a desperate sigh. _Good God Dempsey, where are you... the real you?_

* * *

"Blast!" Dempsey threw a pile of papers onto the middle of the table and sat down at his desk, evidently discouraged. He and Dave returned just a couple minutes ago and it was obvious they hadn't twiddled their thumbs during the trip; both looked fatigued. Dempsey took a shaver out of the drawer and started removing his stubble with irritation. "Myron Thealy has a good alibi, he mumbled, oh and Chas, here ya've the list of guys released from the prison in Exeter within last four years. You may start checkin' upon them."

Chas looked at the papers with disgust.

"Were they all in contact with Ronald Thealy in prison? Perhaps we can exclude some of them".

"We can't" Harry joined the conversation "they might have never seen each other but we must assume a contact person between Thealy and someone else, whoever they might be."

"Precisely" Dempsey agreed "sorry Chas, we need to check all of them. Not so many, dude, about twenty. So, any news here? Do we know anythin' about that Lymon sittin' in the dump in Soho, what he was doin' there?"

"Seems it was purely coincidental" Chas shrugged "the guy just drinks there. Tom's checking it."

Dempsey threw the shaver away and started reviewing new documents that had arrived during his two day absence. With the corner of his eye he observed Harry who was ordering papers at her desk. _Jesus Harry, what happened to you, what happened to us, what the hell's goin' on?_

 _He dreamt about her last night._

 _But this wasn't a nice dream: she came over to his place and when he opened the door she stood there naked, only with the red heels on, holding a big tangle of white lace material two-handedly against her lap, and exclaimed he had promised to help her put this beautiful dress on and attach the veil for her wedding with Simon!_

Harry sighed, she had to go to the copyroom and make copies of the few documents she should file in different locations. She didn't like it, it was time consuming and the device would stutter very often but she wasn't going to leave it to Fry; poor boy was overworked like all of them were. She took the pile of papers and left the office.

Few minutes later, Tom and Fry came back, glad to see their teammates.

"Did you have fun in Manchester?" Fry asked, sitting down and sipping coffee from his mug. "Pubs, girls, and so on?"

"Yeah, we went to a pub yesterday" Dave smiled "but girls weren't interested in two lonely Londoners, so we called it early night."

"Gee, Dave you fool, you spent time in a pub with our master of conquest and didn't learn anything from him?" Tom joked.

"You wouldn't believe but he wasn't in a mood for picking up the chicks."

"You're kiddin'!" Fry laughed.

"Bugger off" Dempsey murmured without anger, he was just tired with all this joking. His mind returned to that horrible evening after the visit in The Black Marketeer and the bust-up with Harry on the street... He'd gone to a bar even more lousy than The Black Marketeer and had ordered a lousy whisky but even had there been any _willing girls_ there he wouldn't have given them a single look. Also in Manchester, he just wanted to drink a pint and go to bed, nothing more. Girls, what girls? There were no girls in this world but one and this one didn't want him.

"Leave off with girls, Fry" he said with fatigue "they mean nothin' but trouble. You never know where you stand with them. They're nice and eager, they let you kiss them, and then they go for a date with another bloke and show you how meaningless you are to them."

Harry didn't want to eavesdrop the conversation in the office. By just a chance it was within her earshot as she stopped in front of the ajar door to hold the papers that were about to slide out of her hands and fall down onto the floor. And as when Dempsey started talking the guys fell silent in astonishment, she heard him loud and clear.

The rage overpowered her but somehow she restrained herself from storming into the office and starting bashing over this idiot's head with the pack of papers she held.

She needed to collect herself, went to the ladies' room and stayed there for a while. When she came back to the office, guys were busy with their tasks, and Dempsey was still sitting at his desk, flickering through the papers and making notes. She walked towards him and stood aside. He raised his eyes to her.

"May I have a word with you?" she asked quietly and coolly, and there was something in her look that made him uncertain.

"Yeah, go on?" he prompted.

"Not here. Outside" she nodded towards the office entrance showing him what she meant. A bit surprised, he stood up, so she made her way to the door without giving him another single look. He followed her, hearing some wild sounds and wolf whistles made by his colleagues. Harry didn't even turned her head.

Having exited the office, she led the way to the door of ladies locker room and right behind it she stopped so abruptly he nearly bumped into her back. Then she turned around and looked at him with fury.

"Dempsey, I have enough!"

He heard these words from her so often but never, ever in such bad circumstances…

" _You_ have enough?" he feigned mildly surprised. "Of what, may I know?"

"Of your stupid comments and brash remarks behind my back. Can you spare me that?"

Another echo of the past sounded in his ears.

He looked at her for a while, then smiled viciously. "Oh, I see, you've overheard our little chat with guys. I never thought the posh and smart ladies like eavesdropping, ya know."

Harry knew his goal was to throw her off-balance but didn't care. "I'm telling you: I have it up to here. How dare you? And oh by the way: I. Am. Not. Dating. Anyone. But even if I were, what I do or don't, whom I do or don't meet is none of your business. You have no right to comment on my life like that. So would you please leave me alone and find something new to entertain yourself!"

"Enterta…!" What the hell was she talking about? "Are you mad? What was that supposed to mean?!"

They both were aware that although the single words could've been hardly understood through the door their raising voices were probably heard well by the guys in the office - but it didn't stop them. They looked at each other with fury.

"You know very well what it was supposed to mean. Like I said, it's not your bloody problem!"

"Well, maybe it _is_ my bloody problem!" he just couldn't stop these words leave his mouth.

"Then perhaps you should bloody revise the way you're coping with this _problem of yours_!" she literally spat these last three words out with fury. "And by the way it's not me who's playing both sides of the fence shagging one woman and trying to get another!"

This was the moment when they overstepped the line and started saying things without thinking, hitting the other blindly.

What she saw on his face made her knees turn into jelly. For a second she thought he would hit her or kiss her. She was not far from truth; Dempsey looked her in these burning blue eyes and just wanted to grab her and kiss her for dear life just to shut her up, make her stop telling all these nonsenses but he resisted the urge. This total lack of understanding between them was killing him. His hands clenched into fists, he opened his mouth and took a deep breath, then he looked at her and raised his hands in a desperate gesture.

"Damn you, Makepeace! Sometimes I wish I never met you!" he whined " _I_ have it up to here! Enough!"

That was too much for her. She felt the wave of heat hitting her.

"Then why don't you go back to hell, Dempsey! Get out of my sight! Now!"

The locker room door was slammed shut loudly. People in the office fell silent, Chas and Watson exchanged glances full of concern.

"Seems we have a real war here", Watson murmured under his nose.

* * *

"What's wrong with these broads?" Dempsey yelled, hitting the wall with his fist with frustration.

Dan giggled, as always when Dempsey was frustrated. "You have a problem with another one, pal?"

They were sitting by the fire in Dan's dark dump in the squat.

"The same. The same I told you about two months ago, you remember?"

"No, I don't. I don't care. But now, I remember. The one you couldn't tell 'I need you' to?"

"Well, finally I did. I mean I told her that."

Dan was poking the pieces of wood in the fire, saying nothing. Dempsey looked at him with impatience.

"Dan? So?"

"So what?"

"Well I'm tellin' ya: I told her I cared!"

"No you didn't"

"I did! I really did!"

"You told her that you needed her, not that you cared."

Dempsey looked lost.

Dan sipped whisky from his flask. "Well, whatever. What happened then?"

"Well, she came back to me. I mean, to work with me."

"And?"

"And what?"

"What did you do later?"

"What d'ya mean?"

"What did you do, you idiot, when she came back?"

"Well I told her I was delighted she did."

"And?"

"And we still work together. And we're fine."

"Ah. So if you're fine, why are you so upset?"

"What else should I've said? I told her I needed her. Broads understand."

"Did she really? What did she do in return?"

Dempsey shrugged and said nothing. Dan sighed and coughed raucously.

"Listen, pal. You're still an American idiot. You didn't tell her anything."

* * *

None of the guys dared to make a comment when Harry returned to the office, after she had splashed some cold water on her face and stood before the mirror, trying to calm down and relax a bit. All of them seemed to be lost in their work, none of them even looked at her or asked about where Dempsey had left for.

But Spikings wasn't one of the guys and few minutes later he was at her desk.

"Harry" he said quietly moving his eyes from her to his office. Like earlier the same day, she got up reluctantly and followed him.

When she closed the door behind her, Spikings was already sitting in his chair, straightened, and looked very formal and full of the dignity. He motioned to her to take a seat in front of him but she shook her head and remained stood.

"I don't know, and moreover I don't want to know, what kind of problems you and Lieutenant Dempsey are currently having" he started point-blankly "but whatever they are, I demand from you both to talk them through immediately. Otherwise I will ask about the details and make a decision which would make our coexistence easier again. Any antagonism within the team may influent our job negatively but when this antagonism is purely evident to the other members of the team this jeopardises us all. Am I making myself clear, Sergeant?"

"Yes Sir" she answered quietly, feeling blushing remorselessly.

"Meaning?"

"I understand what you mean, Sir."

"Good, considering what we were talking about just two hours ago. You may go now. Oh, and, Sergeant?"

She stopped with one hand on the door knob. "Yes, Sir?"

Spikings started shuffling pens and papers on this desk. "I've asked you already whether you and Dempsey had ever talked about his future plans. I would also like to know whether… you talked after your resignation and return to the squad?"

"About what, Sir?"

"Well, in general… about that situation. You must admit it was rather unusual."

"No, Sir. We haven't talked about it."

The silence was a little bit too long.

"Thank you, Sergeant. Dismissed."

* * *

"How do you know that much about women, Dan, you don't have one" Dempsey winked, poking Dan in ribs. A few very long sips of whisky had done the job and he felt a bit more relaxed. Besides, after he calmed down, an echo of Harry's words kept returning to him constantly. _I am not dating anyone. I am not dating anyone. I am..._

"I had three."

"All at the same time?" Dempsey laughed. "No wonder you hate women so much, seems they've sucked you dry!"

"All at the same time. One thirty nine years old, and two of fifteen. My wife and twin daughters. Three beautiful and wise women that passed away."

Dempsey wished he would disappear in a puff of smoke. Dan was staring blankly at him.

"What happened?" James asked quietly.

"Well, I bought them holidays on Tenerife. I couldn't go with them, I was busy at work. But we agreed that after their week on Tenerife I'd take three days off and we all meet in Amsterdam, to show the girls the musea. I flew to Amsterdam to meet them, and they took the KLM flight from Las Palmas. It was on 27 March, 1977."

Dempsey couldn't find proper words. He knew what Dan was talking about, after all the other plane at the airport that day was a PanAm. Everyone remembered what had happened there.

"Dan, I am sorry. I am so sorry, buddy."

"It was the day I lost three persons whom I could tell: I need you. I'm glad to have you. I love you" the self-conscious look of Dan landed on Dempsey face. "Thus, I have lost everything. You have no life if you don't have a single human being you can tell words like that to."


	17. Chapter 17

_As it was my birthday this week, this is my birthday treat for you, my friends, supporters, readers and reviewers :) I think you'll like it. And, Girls - thank you for the fun of yesterday :)_

* * *

 **Chapter 17**

"All right guys, how do I look?"

Harry raised her head and smiled amused. Dave was grinning like a monkey: his hair was curled and dyed blond so it gave them a feeling of looking at a tall Cupid with a funny tiny moustache under the pug nose. He had black blue jeans and a white polo neck on, and yellow jacket with big pads. A big camera was hanging from his neck.

"A real French on holidays on the other side of English Channel" she remarked "oh, pardon, La Manche. Vous regardez bien, monsieur, trés bien, vraiment."

"Merci beaucoup, madame Makepeace. Vous êtes trés gentil" he reciprocated with the perfect French accent. SI-10 was a bunch of people with different special unique skills and Dave's talent was languages. This guy looking like a good natured mechanic from a rural area spoke Spanish and French brilliantly and Harry whose French was also almost perfect had to admit Dave's was far better.

Dave was going to the Black Marketeer this evening to play a tourist looking for some excitement. For Harry it was another waste of time, her instinct kept telling her this line of inquiry was a dead end. But her hunch wasn't an argument.

Dave left with Chas and Tom, Harry looked at her watch. Eight thirty, time to go home. She felt a wave of a horrible fatigue, this day was terrible. After Dempsey had left after their quarrel she buried in the job keeping her brain occupied, trying not to think about what had been said, and about what she had said and what had been really stupid.

" _...it's not your bloody problem!"_

" _Well, maybe it is my bloody problem!"_

" _Then perhaps you should bloody revise the way you're coping with this problem of yours!"_

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

She had bared her feelings to him. In fact she had told him: _'for goodness sake, show me you have cojones and do something at last!'_

She looked toward his desk, a complete mess as always, with a lonely mug on the top of the pile of documents. She sighed. Where the hell was he now?

Tomorrow they'll meet face to face and it will be tough, after today's fight. They cannot keep on going like that, that's impossible. But how could they talk when all attempts have so miserably failed so far?...

She rose from the chair taking her bag from her desk. Time to go. In a doorway she hesitated, stopped, returned to his desk, took the mug and washed it at the coffee corner. Drying it with a paper towel she felt the sudden warm feeling in her heart.

How stupid…

Lost in her mind, she was already at the door downstairs when she thought to check and correct her makeup before leave so she walked towards the ladies room near the reception desk. Once she went in, she stopped at the door abruptly. There was bloody Sayana Souridi standing in front of the mirror there.

 _Ooooh shitty shit. Dave's disguise!_

And it was the moment Sayana spotted her reflection in the mirror.

"Harry! Hi" she smiled at her really friendly. "How are you?"

Makepeace forced herself to move forward. "Hi Sayana, thanks, I am fine" she answered with a fake smile. "I, err, I saw Dave, great job".

"Thanks. I let my imagination run wild" Sayana giggled, "he wanted a beret as well but this would be too obvious for an undercover job. "

Harry smiled with the corner of her mouth, took her makeup bag out and focused on her face in the mirror. Sayana was brushing her long thick black hair. For the moment they remained silent.

"How's James?" Sayana asked suddenly, moving her face closer to the mirror and checking something carefully. "Haven't seen him today."

"He's busy" Harry tried not to sound too barky. Sayana didn't notice anything.

"Yeah, like all of us. Perhaps we could gather together and go out for a pizza like the other day, what a pity you couldn't have stayed for longer then, we really had fun."

"I see" Harry nearly threw her powder compact back on the table.

Sayana looked at her through the mirror. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"Of course I am, thank you" Makepeace tore the comb off her bag. "Absolutely fine."

Sayana kept looking at her closely. "You don't seem so. Was it something I said, maybe? I am sorry, I didn't…"

"I. Am. Fine." Harry knew she just ground these words out, and she was aware it was childish but she just couldn't hold herself. "Have a nice evening Sayana, I must go."

"Nice evening to you too. I really meant it when I said we could go out together…"

"I am sorry but I don't think I'll find time to go out for a pizza with you and Dempsey, I am very busy" Harry grabbed her bag but suddenly was stopped by Sayana's look. "What?"

Sayana regarded her with a light, knowing smile. "You didn't mention Fry."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You didn't mention Fry, he's also been there, remember?" there was something in the girl's look that made Harry uncomfortable. "A very sweet boy, by the way. And he seems to have hots for you. And he's not the only one…" Sayana winked.

Harry took a deep breath.

"I am sorry I am not in the mood for riddles. Now, if you don't mind…"

"Yeah, now I understand"

Harry froze. She really should be going now but something inside forced her to stay. "Understand what?" she asked obstreperously.

Sayana looked at her with amusement that made her furious. "Yes, I see… It's James, isn't it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about" Harry nearly turned herself to the door.

"Haven't you?" Sayana grinned. "That's the spirit! You think I and James have something, don't you? Gosh!" she laughed out loudly.

Harry felt a hot wave of anger overflowing her. "I don't care if you and Dempsey or you or Dempsey _have something_ , believe me. If you don't have, that's fine, if you have, I am happy for your happiness."

"Are you really?" this amusement in Sayana's eyes was insufferable. She shook her head in disbelief. "If I were you I wouldn't. James is such a treasure! Charming, masculine, wise, trustful, attractive…" she recited all the things looking at Makepeace with the laughing eyes.

That was much more than enough, Harry felt furious.

"Oh is he really? Then why don't you take him, you can have him, I don't mind!" she snarled.

Sayana made a wry face. "Oh, thank you very much for this generous offer, I am really moved! But unfortunately I cannot accept it."

"And why is that?" willy-nilly, Harry couldn't hide her curiosity.

Sayana looked her straight in her eye. "Because I suppose my girlfriend would be very upset then!"

Harry felt like she turned into a pillar of salt. She looked at Sayana dumbfoundingly, with her mouth slightly open.

Sayana smiled triumphantly.

"You didn't know, did you? He hasn't told you?" Her look was so annoying! "And before you might want to ask: yes, he knew it, at once. And no, I am not bisexual, have never had a man in my all life. And he wasn't keen on me at all, ever. From the very first moment we all met I knew he had eyes for you and only you. And don't tell me, Harry Makepeace that you didn't realize that. Because if you didn't it would mean you are completely stupid and you don't deserve what's being offered to you."

There were only a very few moments in her life Harry was lost for words and this definitely wasn't the case.

"How dare you talk to me like that?!" she snapped. "You don't know anything about me, about us, how can you just, just judge me like that?!"

Sayana thought briefly that DS Makepeace looked really interesting when being angry. Her eyes sparkled with fury, cheeks flushed, no wonder Dempsey loved to provoke her!

That was all what she could think of because Harry turned her back on her and left the room slamming the door loudly, just like Dempsey had done a couple of hours ago. Sayana shrugged looking at her own reflection in the mirror.

"Annoying girl" she sighed.

* * *

Harry's car was parked in a far corner of the parking lot. She walked quickly trying to calm down, her head buzzing.

 _He knew it. All the time she was mad of jealousy, this bastard knew it was completely unfounded, but hasn't said a word. Even when she accused him of…_ Harry moaned and covered her face with hands. What was that she told him? _Shagging one woman and trying to get another? Oh my God, what a disgrace!_

And yet he hasn't said a word, even then. Bastard. She'll kill him tomorrow morning, in the first place.

On the other hand… at least he had no affair with this insufferable woman, Harry thought and for the first time this day she felt a bit better. Besides,she suddenly realised, she had reciprocated him unknowingly with the Simon thing. OK yes, she had mentioned she wasn't dating anyone but the bloody bastard can't be hundred percent sure about it, and he doesn't need to know about her and Simon's talk of that evening of The Kiss. Not yet anyway. She smiled vengefully under her nose. _Taste your own medicine, Leftenant._

* * *

The attaché of the Embassy of the United States, Mr Kingsley, looked like a typical City clerk, Harry thought. He was not very American, anyway. As for Dempsey, it was an antipathy at the first sight between the two of them. Shaking hands with Kingsley he gave him a long, meaningful and disrespectful look and it didn't remain unnoticed by the attaché, unfortunately.

Why Spikings had decided to take them for the meeting in the embassy Harry didn't know at first but now she thought Chief just wanted to show the Embassy officials a part of his team working hard on the case. Harry was aware of the fact the phone at Spikings' desk was ringing persistently and each and every person had one thing to say: the lack of headway in the inquiry was less than unsatisfying. Today Spikings had told Chas to sit by the phone and answer it and he'd looked as happy to leave the problem behind himself as Chas had looked hopelessly miserable.

The chat with Kingsley has been very polite and quiet but unspoken accusations and comments were just hanging in the air.

"So I hope you understand my point of view, Chief Superintendent Spikings" Kingsley finished his speech without raising his voice even for a second "after two weeks of inquiry we really have nothing and we still don't know why our citizen has been killed and by whom. This makes the situation very uncomfortable and makes us calling into question your professionalism and your ability to resolve this case."

Dempsey moved on his chair and opened his mouth but Spikings' steel look restrained him from saying something that might jeopardize the Anglo-American relations in the nearest future. Dempsey shrugged then and busied himself with looking through the big window.

"Mr Kingsley" Spikings cleared his throat "although I can see how embarrassing the situation is for you and all the embassy staff, and also for the victim's family and friends…"

 _I wonder if such a slippery eel like Dalley could have had any friends,_ Harry thought; from Dempsey's face she could read he thought exactly the same.

"... but I want to guarantee you we are working at the case day and night and although the results are not obvious today we have made a lot of assumptions and also excluded the impossible scenarios already. This means we are getting closer to the solution every day. Have more faith in us. Here you can see the my two best detectives whose skills and admirable cooperation give us hope the killer will be found soon" Spikings nodded towards his two best detectives who, surprised with this unexpected puff piece in Spikings' mouth, turned their heads and looked at each other simultaneously.

And then something happened when their eyes met. Again, like it was some time ago. They locked their gazes and weren't able to break the eye contact. Again, it lasted only few seconds but so many things were spoken without words.

 _I am sorry._

 _Please forgive me._

 _Come back._

 _I can't stand it anymore._

"As I said before, Mr Kingsley" Spikings strong voice has emerged them from their silent talk "both Sergeant Makepeace and Lieutenant Dempsey are doing their best in this inquiry and they have already came to some interesting conclusions, however of course you'll understand I cannot reveal anything at the moment."

"I have heard about you Lieutenant" Kingsley moved his look from Spikings to Dempsey "and I really hope you are as good as they say, despite your untypical and sometimes unacceptable methods of working. Now, Chief Superintendent," he continued before Dempsey was able to react on his words "shall we discuss the inquiry update of this week?"

* * *

"I hate being so polite to the people like this funny pathetic guy" Spikings puffed with irritation stopping by Harry's car "but you need to be like that when you are the Chief Superintendent."

"May I say you are very good at the velvet glove, Sir?" Harry smiled with appreciation caused by the Boss' sincerity. Dempsey stood right behind her. After what had happened in Kingsley's office she felt a kind of a relief which was inexplicable given that in fact nothing particular happened. "Shall we go?" she prompted.

"Yes, you go, I have another meeting in the Foreign Office but I don't want you two there, so I'll take a taxi" Spikings grunted "go back to the office and do your job. We really need a success otherwise they would pulverise us into dust. It's crucial, Sergeant! Now, what are you waiting for? See you later" and Spikings turned on his heel and marched away.

The newly born Harry's self-confidence has faded away immediately; she hadn't expected to be left with Dempsey alone, especially after this unspoken talk of few minutes ago. But there was nothing she could do about it; she took a deep breath and walked to the passenger seat. It was Dempsey who had driven them to here and she didn't want to risk another row with him over driving back.

Dempsey had started the engine and and put the car into gear. They drove some miles in a heavy silence.

"Harry, we need to talk."

Dempsey's words have made her frozen and scared. The wave of bitterness flew over her.

"Are you sure we are still able to talk, Dempsey? We've tried several times, and you see the result?"

"Well I don't think it's my fault only."

"Oh for goodness sake!" She fell silent and sighed desperately. "Anyway we need to do something. Spikings has noticed… he noticed there was something wrong, yesterday he called me and demanded us to… to talk and to resolve our _problem_ , so."

"Spikings." There was something very, very unpleasant in his voice.

"Yes, Spikings, why?"

"You think we need to talk because Spikings has told you so? Is that all, Harry?" he glared at her.

Suddenly she understood what he was getting at.

"No! I mean... It's not like that!"

Dempsey felt fury raising in himself. _Spikings!_

Without giving a single look in the rearview, he sharply turned right, crossed the opposite lane, mounted the pavement and pushed the brakes on hard. He turned his face to her. "Get outta the car, Harry."

"What?!"

"I said get out!" and he did likewise, rounded the car and yanked the passenger door handle, caught Harry's arm and literally dragged her out of the car. "All right Miss, you wanna talk, you'll have a talk" he hissed through the gritted teeth. They were standing at a park gate and he caught her hand in the iron clasp and literally drew her towards it.

"What the hell are you doing, let go of me, Dempsey!" she yelled.

"You wanna talk, don't ya?!"

It was a small park, like many of them in London, with lawns, a pond and a small arch bridge crossing it; and onto that bridge has Dempsey led her, ignoring her fierce protests.

She didn't know whether he finally let go of her hand or it was she who wrenched herself away from him; she leaned her back against the railing, gasping with fury.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?!" she squeaked in an attempt of a verbal self-defence.

He stood opposite her, looking at her with pure rage. He was really mad, more mad than he should have been. _Good God why have I mentioned Spikings,_ she thought with confusion.

"OK, now we can talk. So what's your proposition, Sergeant, what should we do to please S _pikings_ and make _his_ and _your_ life easier?" he asked in a dangerously silky voice.

"I didn't mean that, Dempsey!"

"Naaah, sure you didn't!"

"I won't talk to you if you're shouting at me!"

"And what are _you_ doing now if not shouting at _me_?!"

Suddenly they both fell silent as though the hopelessness of their situation had made them unable and unwilling to do anything, to say a word that might have helped.

The pregnant silence kept hanging in the air.

Dempsey loosened his tensed up shoulders and smiled wryly.

"So… this is it?" he shrugged. "You're right, seems we aren't able to talk without shoutin' at one another anymore. And we aren't even able to be honest to each other. I think it's all over, Harry."

Harry swallowed. His words were like a kick in her guts. Could he be right? In one quick flash her imagination gave her a picture of Dempsey's empty chair, empty desk and the clean mug sitting alone in the middle of it. She tried to say something through a tight throat but it was so difficult under his look that suddenly became so blank.

Seeing the torment in her eyes he mellowed a bit.

"What've ya been playin' at, Makepeace?" using her surname has made it much worse, was there no _Harry_ anymore?... "Tell me. You owe me this. Why? Why did you act like a snooty icy queen that day in the office, you know when? Why did you just reject me without a word, as though you'd thrown a paper into a bin? Was it beneath your dignity just to say _sorry I am not into it?_ "

She jumped up, regarding him with her widened eyes.

"No! That's not like that! You don't understand!"

"Indeed I don't! I don't get it, Harry. I tried, I swear I tried to understand what was goin' on in this dumb head o'yours. I really tried. I even spoke to someone… someone who I thought could've helped me to get it. But I failed. And now I'm done. I can't do anythin' more about it. That's over."

She looked at him with despair, through the tears in her eyes, at his angry face, darkened eyes, squeezed jaws. Oh God she needed him in her life so much, she couldn't lose him, she _was_ losing him and she couldn't do anything not to.

She couldn't get the words out which riled him ever more.

"For god's sake Harry, say something!"

"You… don't… understand" she repeated weakly. "I didn't... reject you. I just… I just didn't know what to do…"

He dropped his hands to his side, looking at her with bewilderment.

"You didn't know what to do?" he echoed with disbelief. "Remind me Harry how old ya are: thirty or thirteen, embarrassed by a man's attention?!"

There was something vulnerable in her eyes he regretted his words immediately. And? Might have she been about to cry? Impossible. He had seen her sobbing and crying only once for all these years, when her friend Sarah had been killed. It was Harry Makepeace, a tough cookie, a hard nut to crack, brave and courageous, the wonderwoman of his dreams!

The wonderwoman of his dreams however was, obviously, falling apart at the seams. He watched her lowering her head and slowly turning her back on him. Harry squeezed the railing, looking at the water below, her head bowed.

If it was any other woman, any other person in this world he'd give up right now. He would just turn and walk away, writing the thing off. But this was different. This was Harry. The only one person in this world he wanted to fight for, regardless how mad he was at her, how much he felt she hurt him.

He stepped forward and stood right behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"Harry…"

A shiver went right down her body and he felt it.

"Just tell me what the problem is. Tell me. I need to know. I must know." His voice was quiet and caressive. They both knew somehow it was he who was completely succumbing to her in this moment.

He felt the tension rising in her again, he felt she was fighting with herself - to reveal or _not_ to reveal what was tormenting her?...

He heard her whisper coming from the bottom of her soul:

"I just... can't stand the fear I'd be… cheated… and broken-hearted… again!"

It took a moment for her words to sink in.

"Fear? And that's all, Harry? Fear? You know I…" he tailed off "you know I… care for you. I am pretty sure you know it but _you_ _don't wanna_ _know it_ , do you?" he was desperately tearing the words from himself. "Jeezas, I'd never break your heart, Harry" he sounded so sincere. "I may be the irresponsible and stupid Yank, I know that's what you think of me, but believe me I'd never cheat on you… I'd never let you down... Well at least not intentionally" his sense of fairness told him to add that. "Why the hell a'ya so scared of what might happen between us?"

She gave out a short, bitter laugh. "What can you know about it, Dempsey? Have you ever been broken-hearted?"

He felt as if he'd been stabbed in the gut.

"Yeah, I guess I am being right now" he said quietly.

Harry felt like falling down into an abyss. The way he spoke these words was devastating. She couldn't help but turned to face him again, looking at his face with widened eyes. "What?..."

He was looking at her the way that made her knees weak but she also had a feeling she was looking at an animal dying in a trap. "You heard me Harry. I am feeling being broken hearted, I've been feeling like that for the last two weeks. I hate myself for feeling like that and I thought I hated you for that too, but I didn't. I just…" he paused and looked up to the tops of the trees. "Well, I just can't hate you for whatever you do."

Harry reached out her hand and touched his cheek. Dempsey looked at her with mild surprise.

"I care for you. But I don't know how I can make you believe I do" she whispered looking in his eyes.

Had she expected the joyful reaction on her words she failed. He shrugged.

"How would I know that? You've never shown me that. I just don't _feel_ you care for me" was his dry answer. He averted his eyes from her as if he suddenly had regretted his moment of weakness, his confession. And it dawned to her suddenly it was now or never.

In a flash of courage she rested her hands on his chest, then moved them up to his shoulders and pushing up on her tiptoes she lightly brushed his lips with hers. A second later she did it again, but this time she put her arms around his neck and caught his lip between hers slowly, cautiously, hesitantly.

Seconds seemed ages to her before he finally returned the kiss. Slowly he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him and they both sank into the most tender, sweetest and loveliest kiss they have ever experienced in their lives. He hold her in his arms gingerly as if she'd been a china doll, she clung to him for dear life never wanting to let go of him. Her feelings overpowered her, cleared her mind, there was nothing but pure and unconditional love she felt for him at this very moment, while being here in his arms, feeling so safe, at peace and relieved.

Dempsey just couldn't believe it was happening. She had kissed him first, she was kissing him now, running her fingers through his hair and stroking the back of his neck, he felt her body melting into his, was it another dream or what? Would he wake up in a while, on his own couch or at the office desk?

But no, it wasn't a dream, it was for real he thought with the last conscious cell in his brain and then he gave up thinking at all. Her arms around his neck, the scent of her skin and perfumes, golden hair brushing his face, the sweetness of her mouth, her tongue melding so softly to his and tenderly tasting his lips, that was all that mattered to him in this very moment.

Finally, reluctantly they broke the kiss and stood quietly, resting their foreheads against each other and holding their shy gazes. Dempsey was stroking her hair absently, completely lost in the wonderful feelings filling him completely.

"Why did you leave?"

"Sorry?" her question woke him up. He looked at her astounded.

"That evening, at my place. Why did you leave then, when Simon appeared"

He felt dumbfounded. That was the question. _Why did he leave, actually?..._

"I think I just, errr…" he cleared his throat, this blue gaze pierced his soul, he couldn't break the eye contact "I, emmm, I think I just couldn't have stood his presence there."

She was looking at him with a mix of amusement, anger and triumph. "I don't believe it! You couldn't have stood the presence of an unwelcome guest just right after the moment we kissed for the first time so you left? Remind me Dempsey how old you are: forty or fourteen?!"

OK, that was good, and he didn't know what to say, so he just shrugged and rested his chin on her head, holding her close and enjoying their proximity.

 _An unwelcome guest. After the moment we kissed for the first time._ God, how good it sounded to his ears. Yes, now they kissed for the second time and he hoped there would be the third, the fourth…

"And now what?" he murmured dreamily, giving no single fuck to the reality.

"Now?" she echoed. "Now we are going back to the office and do what Spikings wants us to do. Otherwise we won't live to see tomorrow's morning sun."

"Harry…" he moved away a bit and gave her confused look. "OK with us? You said you cared for me…"

She leaned towards him and kissed his cheek. "I did and I do, James. But I need to think everything over. This day, these days were a nightmare, I'm muddled. I need to sit and think at peace, back in my comfort zone. And I swear I meant what I have said, believe me. Just give me a bit of time and space now. I am worn out, emotionally."

He didn't like it at all, especially after this blissful kissing session on the bridge when he had found himself in the heaven of her arms, but he knew he had to accept it. He had to hope whatever it was she was going to think of she wouldn't decide against them. So they made their way back to the car, and when they walked he put his arm around her shoulders pulling her gently closer to him, and to his relief she didn't slide herself out of his embrace.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Harry remained quiet and pensive for the rest of the day; driving back to the office she sat on the passenger seat beside Dempsey fidgeting with fringe of her suede bag that she kept on her lap, saying nothing. Dempsey wished they could talk more about 'them', he really wanted that, he needed that, but his common sense told him not to. Trying to make her more relaxed, he started making playful comments about their visit in the Embassy, about the ridiculous Kingsley guy, then he switched fluently to the case, about Dave's last night mission, and he succeed; her tension has somewhat melted away, she followed his suit and they entered the SI-10 office arm in arm, talking friendly and with life about the inquiry, although of course still having in their mind what had happened in the park…

The change in the air between them didn't remain unnoticed at least by Chas and Watson who exchanged glances full of relief. Apparently these two had talked things through, whatever it was, Chas thought, watching Dempsey putting a mug of coffee in front of Harry and she thanked him with a shy smile, biting her lip. There was something in this scene, in their fleeting gazes, that made Chas a little curious but he didn't have time to think more about it as the phone in Boss' office rang furiously and Chas rushed in to answer it, cursing under the nose being Spikings' right hand man.

Spikings returned to the factory about an hour later, rather irritated, and announced the immediate briefing. Has he also noticed the apparent truce between his most precious officers he didn't comment it at all - and Harry thanked God for that; the last thing she needed now was additional sarcastic comments about her and Dempsey today.

The briefing was rather discouraging; nothing new has been said and no-one wanted to say anything about the fruitless inquiry. What was certain already – no victim's involvement in any crime had been proved. The Thealy family had not been involved in the murder. So many clues leading to nowhere.

They agreed to start the second round of Dalley's co-workers interrogation.

"How about the potential connections between Dalley and the guests that were present at the party, Harry?" Spikings asked gruffily. Harry shook her head.

"I haven't found anything so far Sir. There were about sixty guests there, I have checked nearly half of them. Nothing important. Only the Athertons knew the victim in person. Oh by the way Charles Atherton, the elder son of Lady Grace is coming back from the States on Monday. He doesn't seem to have anything in common with the crime as he's spent last eight weeks in…" she looked into her notes "… Oklahoma City. But I'd like to talk to him as soon as possible."

"We can put the screws on him Tuesday mornin'" Dempsey cut in. "I'll speak to him with pleasure. Blokes who spend voluntarily eight weeks in a place like Oklahoma City are suspicious."

A proof of Dempsey's restored humour certainly boosted the mood of the team and with more energy they went back to their desks burying themselves again in their work. Harry took a pile of documents and started reviewing them carefully, and methodically, making notes in her notebook.

Dempsey watched her discreetly with the corner of his eye while they were working. When they had been in the park he hadn't been able to gather his minds to think reasonably, too many emotions had overwhelmed him. He was thinking, however, now. One thing was absolutely obvious for him: he needed to be very, very careful with Harry. There was too much to lose. In other words, slow and steady. No matter how much he wanted just to take her home, take her in his arms and make love to her till the early hours in his own bed, showing her everything he couldn't find the words for. She needed to be treated in kid gloves, to make her believe him and his good intentions, to make her certain he was serious when he said he… cared, and he was going to accept this challenge no matter how much time it would take.

Anyway he still thought about what she had told him on the bridge. That she needed to figure everything out herself, that she needed some 'time and space'. Why? And what precisely did she want to think about? For him it was obvious there were no more doubts or second thoughts, they cared for each other, they ought to start their 'together' at once! Hadn't they lost so much time already? How stupid he was he hadn't done anything right after the close of the Daish case! On the other hand he had accepted her confession, her fears although it was difficult for him to understand them. He was not the Reptile Robert, for goodness sake! Hasn't he given her the countless evidences of his trust, devotion and sincerity all this time since they had got closer as friends? Well of course he was still brash, impatient and bluff in his actions and words but for certain it was not what had kept Harry away from him?

Surely now he was going to pay for his reputation of a womanizer, he wasn't stupid and he was aware of that. But Harry knew him so well, she must believe him. He really… cared for her, that was the word he finally got to use without resistance and he preferred to keep on using it for now.

Sitting at his desk and scribbling notes on the margins of a new report he felt like he'd been a ten year old worrying his Mom was angry at him for something he'd done. He remembered he would have kept himself close to her, hanging around with her, trying to read from her face she wasn't angry anymore. It was quite alike today, he couldn't kept his secret glances away from Harry's face to make himself sure she cared, that she had forgiven him his stupidity and rudeness - as he had forgiven her childish behaviour - and that she really hadn't rejected him, that there was _something_ in the future waiting for them.

When was the last time he felt so uncertain about a woman, about their feelings for him? Well, truth to be told, there had been neither such woman in his life nor so intense feelings so far. These feelings delighted him but were also quite frightening; even at this undefined stage he already started feeling the responsibility they had brought: the responsibility for another person's heart and soul, the responsibility of being together, really together, not just next to each other.

But he knew with no doubt he took this challenge. There was too much to lose.

He was about to ask her for dinner tonight but again he shut his mouth up. _She wanted time and space_ \- she would get time and space. Dinner could wait… but perhaps he could ask her tomorrow, he smiled to himself. Tomorrow is Friday, a perfect time for their first date. A real date.

 _Gosh, he and Harry! She said she cared! Isn't it too good to be true?_

Where would he take her to? Nothing too posh and sophisticated, it would be a bit stuffy. But obviously not too casual like Hard Rock Cafe or what. Somewhere nice and quiet, a place to talk intimately. Never mind, he'll think of something.

On a whim, he took a mini-Bounty candy out of his drawer and put it on her desk right in front of her nose.

"Here" he murmured softly "something to keep your brain working, Sergeant."

She smiled and took the candy. "Perhaps you're right I need it" she said unwrapping the candy and looking in his eyes with this kind of a shy smile that made him feel like fainting and screaming with delight equally. He sat down on the edge of her desk and moved closer to her.

"Hey, why don'tcha go home early Tiger" he said quietly and reached his hand out as if he wanted to run it over hers, but he didn't.

Using this particular pet name again felt so good and wonderful she nearly missed what he had said. "Pardon?"

"I said you should go home early today" he continued quietly, looking down at her from a few inch distance. "We both know you're tired and worn out. Go. I'll cover for ya."

She looked in his eyes but shook her head. "I can't. We have so much work to do…"

"Dempsey?"

Spikings appeared on the doorstep of his office, making their eye contact break. For a while he looked at something what seemed to be quite a private and intimate talk. He beckoned for Dempsey but before Dempsey reacted the phone in the inner office rang. Spikings returned in there and came back seconds after.

"Harry" his voice was so serious they both looked at him anxiously. "It's your father" he motioned her to come.

Harry stood up quickly and rushed in to Spikings' office. Dempsey looked after her with concern. Both them and Spikings knew Lord Winfield would never dare to bother his daughter at work so if he did it meant something very crucial had happened.

The talk was brief and just two minutes ago Makepeace returned to the outer office, evidently upset. She exchanged few quiet words with Spikings on the doorstep of his office then returned to her desk and seeing the questioning look of James she explained quietly "Uncle Malcolm called dad, aunt Maud has died. The senior member of our family, my grandpa's sister."

"I'm so sorry, Harry" he said with the true sympathy. "She must've been ol' already?"

"Yes, ninety-eight I think… But she was in a very good shape till the very end, I've talked to her over the phone two weeks ago you'd never say she was that old" Harry sat down at her desk and sipped a bit of her coffee. "Eh… You know she was over eighty when my mother died, and the family said she should stay at home, the travel and the funeral would be too tiring for her, at her age. But she said _I have welcomed Lucy in our family twenty years ago, with my brother and our father, and now it's only me of the three of us left who's going to pay the last respect to her."_ Harry fell silent and didn't even notice the shocked look of Dempsey.

For all this time since they've been friends Harry had never, ever mentioned her mother. It was Freddie who had told James once that his wife died when Harry was seventeen and it made their life a huge misery that lasted for years. Harry had never said a word about it. Dempsey knew much more about her unfortunate marriage! She hadn't said much about it either, but at least he knew few facts about the sneaky lawyer who had first made her walk down the aisle and then cheated and broke her heart so much.

The fact Harry mentioned the painful subject or her beloved mother's death meant a lot for Dempsey, meant a lot for 'them' both…

"Well seems you'll be left on your own tomorrow" she continued "Freddie's in London and we'll leave for funeral early. I am sorry. But I will be back to work on Monday. I know I shouldn't leave you in the middle of this crap but…"

"Oh come on Princess, I'll be fine" he ran fingers through his hair. "A'ya goin' by train?"

She shook her head. "Freddie hates public transport. We'll go by car. And Abbott has stayed at Winfield, he's ill, so I'll drive the whole way there and back" she sighed.

An idea has hit him suddenly. He leaned a bit towards her. "Listen why don't you take my car, it's much more comfortable than your Ford" he suggested. "Well unless you're gonna drive your father's Rolls or Jag, or whatever it is" he smiled.

"No, nothing like that" she smiled too "Abbott had driven Freddie to London and returned to Winfield and then got ill. So Freddie has no car here, he uses taxi all the time when he's going to visit his club and other places… Well that's very nice of you to offer us your Merc…" she paused.

"I can see a _but_ coming?" he looked in her eyes with a smile but also with a bit of a challenge.

 _Oh to hell with that,_ she thought suddenly. _Stop being so reserved and aloof. He must indeed care about you since he is offering you his precious car -_ and the thought both moved her and amused her a bit.

"No, no _but_ " she surprised him with that answer "I'll take the Merc, thank you. The trip would be a bit tiring for my dad, so you are right. I promise to treat it as piece of china."

"A week of doing my desk work for each and every scratch in the car's body" he joked.

"No way. Lunch, maybe, for all of them. But I don't think there will be a single one" she raised from the chair. "I must go. I need to pop in at Freddie's first and then pack my things…"

Spikings poked his head out of his room like a cuckoo out of a wall clock.

"Dempsey, to my office please. Now."

"What have I done this time, Boss, I don't remember anythin'" Dempsey protested vehemently, he didn't want to break this lovely chat with Harry before she left. He planned to go downstairs with her, walk her to the parking lot. The office windows fronted onto the parking itself so he could hope for nothing more than a few tender words for goodbye but anyway that would be something too. But Spikings had different plans for him, apparently.

"I don't know what you have done today Leftenant, I need to talk to you and it's now when I have time for it" Spikings didn't stand on ceremony, as always. "Sergeant Makepeace is about to be leaving now, is she? Then you can tell her politely ' _goodbye DS Makepeace, have a safe trip to the north and come back soon and I will keep on working for sake of our department.'_ My office, Dempsey. Now."

Dempsey stood up reluctantly, "I have no faintest idea what he wants from me" he complained. Harry felt a little sting in her heart - she had a feeling she knew what Spikings wanted.

She wanted to enlighten him but finally she decided against it; has Spikings wanted to talk to him about his future in England it was a very important thing, the decision Dempsey would have to make should be all his, she shouldn't suggest anything, even subliminally, he could read a lot from her face, from her eyes. And she knew she would keep on thinking about it until he tells her. If he tells her…

"Good luck" she wished him a bit tongue in cheek, and took her bag and the Merc keys off the desk. "If there's any of your stuff in the car I'll move it to mine. And thanks again" she gave him a warm, loving look.

"That's OK. Take care Harry and, what was it?... goodbye DS Makepeace, have a safe trip to the north and come back soon… to me" the last two words he murmured very, very quietly holding her gaze, making her blush.

"DEMPSEY!" Spikings' roar made the glass in the windows vibrate.

"Jeezas, easy Boss, I'm coming, just a second, why so impatient?" as Harry snorted with laughter and disappeared behind the door to cut this goodbye short, Dempsey crawled to the boss' office. The outer room suddenly looked so empty without Harry… five seconds after she had left.

"Sit down, Dempsey" Spikings pointed at the chair. He was reviewing a manila folder which Dempsey noticed was his own personal files. _Whadde heck, another complaint or so?_ He sat down, intrigued.

"For how long have you been here with us?" Spikings asked raising his head. Dempsey thought.

"Three and half a year, sumthin' like that?" he shrugged. "I've arrived in March, so. Nearly three and a half."

Spikings nodded. "And last December when Coltrane was arrested, you could have returned home but you haven't. Why, Dempsey? Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to tell you in a very polite way your time here is over, on the contrary. But I'd like to know why you stayed."

 _You know the reason well, you old devil,_ Dempsey thought. _It was you who suggested Harry might… that she…_ He looked at Spikings casually and shrugged.

"Guess I've just used to life in London" he said briefly. "Three years, that's enough to decide what ya like or dislike. Be sure boss if I hadn't liked it here I'd've left long time ago, ya wanted it or not."

Spikings was silent for a while.

"Dempsey, I asked you for this chat because it's time to make a decision about your future here. Your contract with MET used to be prolonged every year so far but it cannot last forever. NYPD has asked me recently about your current status here, too. Don't you think it would be wise to sort the things out?"

"What do you mean by that?" Dempsey felt something unpleasant in his stomach.

"Well" Spikings regarded him carefully. "I need to know if you are going to stay in England for keeps. If you're not - you may keep on working till the end of the year but your contract expires by then and won't be prolonged again. You may also leave now, if that's what you want. I mean, when the current case is closed. If you want to stay here, to live here and work for the Queen and St. George, that looks a bit problematic but possible - although would require a solid grounds, some boring paperwork and a fiery discussion with both MET and NYPD. And, with the Commissioner what might be the biggest problem, you know why. But you decide. I think what you say, goes."

Dempsey tried to sort his thoughts out.

"And" Spikings continued "in case you stay and get the work and residence permit you will have to move on and apply for a Detective Inspector. There will be promotions next year so it's your chance because MET might not want a simple American cop here but wouldn't mind the American senior officer; it looks good in the public relations records."

"Are you serious?" Dempsey jumped up a little. "A DI? It means deskwork. You know I hate it. I am not a clerk, I am a cop."

Spikings tutted impatiently. "You don't know much about this job, Leftenant. Indeed there's more deskwork than you have now, but not that much. You'll still have a lot of work to keep your legs moving, don't worry. And you will coordinate the team work which you turned out to be damn good at, as I have noticed lately."

"How about workin' with Harry then?" Dempsey asked the most important question. "She won't agree to be my Sergeant, no way. You know her. And I won't work without her, that's absolutely out of the question. And you know that, too."

Spikings smiled, amused. "I have offered the position of DI to DS Makepeace, too, couple of days ago. Still haven't received her answer, but I am quite sure she'll accept. It's a great chance for her career. So she won't be" he coughed trying to hide his little amusement " _your Sergeant_ in any way. I understand she hasn't told you yet? Oh and by the way, I suppose your little… conflict of the last days, whatever it was, has been already resolved, hasn't it?"

"Yes Chief. Ev'rythin's fine. I'm very grateful ya told us to resolve it" Dempsey said humorously, thinking about the Brigde Scene.

"I don't know what you mean but won't ask" Spikings sighed. "So - what is your decision Leftenant?"

"Will I work with Harry then?" Dempsey repeated the question with emphasis.

"Yes, although on a bit different rules. I guess you want a few days to weigh this up? Or to discuss it with... someone?"

"Um… yeah, please. A few days. I mean I'd rather stay here but I need to, um, I need to check some things and, well, that's all."

"OK" Spikings handed him a white envelope. "In case you decide to stay and apply, you need to review this. And perhaps you ought to learn for the exams together with Harry, you may learn a lot from her" a glimpse of a smile flashed up over his face.

"Exams!"

* * *

Dempsey couldn't find a place for himself these days. Harry had called on Friday early afternoon but he was on the film set with Fry again so she only spoke to Chas. She wanted to know how they were doing without her and added that she was very busy with the funeral issues and everything. She had left a phone number in case of any serious events but, as Chas said, she had sounded distracted and Dempsey knew he wouldn't disturb her with an irrelevant call. Besides, Friday and Saturday were working days for the entire squad and he really needed to focus on work. Harry's absence, paradoxically, could help, he _could_ focus on work without her nearby… although he missed her like hell and he was still concerned about what the future could bring.

He had, also, a secret thing to do.

It was Saturday evening and he spent it – and two previous evenings as well – at The Black Marketeer. Sipping cheap and tasteless beer, he just waited and did nothing. He knew it was a bit risky as he hadn't told anyone where he was going to. If Spikings knew he'd skin him alive. What Harry would do Dempsey preferred not to think of. Thing was, if he finally found something he would have to tell her.

It was the last evening here, he decided. If nothing happens – probably – he'll give it up. And from Monday on they would focus again on Dalley's work environment.

About eleven he stood up and left, feeling angry and disappointed, but like on previous evenings, he didn't hurry home at once. He walked several dozens of feet towards the nearest corner, stopped and waited, leaning his arm against the wall. Like on previous nights, he gave himself fifteen minutes. Then he would go home.

But this time it was different and after less than ten minutes Dempsey felt a heavy hand falling down onto his shoulder. He wasn't even surprised he hadn't heard the footsteps; he knew he wouldn't have. The well-known dark voice asked:

"And what've you damn been pryin' at here, Dempsey?"

Dempsey slowly turned his head and grinned derisively to a tall man standing right behind him.

"I adore this fantastic beer here, Lymon."


	19. Chapter 19

_Judging from the poor number of the reviews, not everybody likes lazy and quiet chapters, so… here's another one :)_ _A little treat for you before I leave for holidays on Monday. After all I hope you enjoy it._

 _I will spend next two weeks in England and Wales which will be definitely good for myself but may also kick my muse well :)_

* * *

 **Chapter 19**

Dusk fell quickly when Harry and Freddie were returning home. The Merc headlights lighted the darkening road. They still had about 100 miles ahead to drive but soon they were about to reach M1.

Music played on the radio was soft and quiet, the lights of the car board bathed the cockpit in a soft glow and Harry felt relaxed. Thinking back to the funeral yesterday and today's morning and afternoon spent with the family she was driving at peace looking at her dozing father from time to time. Poor old man, it all must have been exhausting for him.

Harry has just taken first few miles of M1 when Lord Winfield woke up and looked around slightly disorientated, then smiled at her.

"How are we doing, honey?"

"About ninety miles to go, we'll be in London in no time. Are you sure you don't want to stay at my place, Freddie?"

"Thank you, but no. Abbott's already waiting for me at mine, presumably with a good late dinner and a bottle of an old Burgundy. Wouldn't you rather join us?"

"No, thank you, I need to get up early tomorrow so I'll have a bath and make it early night going straight to bed."

They both fell silent again, lost in their thoughts. The car engine was very quiet, in fact they rather heard the sound of the tyres over the road surface than the engine itself. Harry breathed deeply in, inhaling the unique mix of the scent of the car cockpit, Dempsey's cigars and his aftershave. Suddenly she thought it felt like he was here with them. As always, a thought like that confused her a bit.

As if reading her thoughts, Lord Winfield said: "It's really very kind of James that he's lent us his car. It's much more comfortable than yours. Does he often let you drive it?"

"No, I wouldn't say that" Harry answered "and there's no such need, usually we use mine. And yes, it's very nice of him." She felt he was looking at her sideways curiously and knowing her father well she just knew what was coming next.

"I don't like interfering with your life at all" Freddie started with a shadow of hesitation "neither professional nor private one - but may I ask you, is everything alright between you and James? On both fields?"

Harry gripped the steering wheel a little bit tighter. That was Freddie, he always knew everything. Sometimes he'd known the things before she even started thinking about them.

"What makes you think it isn't?" she answered with a question which, however, gave Lord Winfield a clue.

"You've seemed a little… distracted lately, honey - and your thoughts have seemed to be far away. Of course it doesn't have to be about James… but apparently there's something that has been bothering you… and you reacted untypically when Malcolm asked you about how James was doing."

"What do you mean, untypically?" Harry in fact was playing for time but on the other hand she was quite curious about what Freddie meant.

"Well… a little confused and eager, equally both" Lord Winfield smiled lightly observing a slight flush of red coming to his daughter's cheeks.

"Did uncle Malcolm notice that too?" Harry couldn't help but ask this question that in fact has bared everything. Freddie chuckled very, very quietly.

"No. You're my daughter, not his. He doesn't know you that well. So… what's going on if you don't mind me asking?"

Harry decided it wasn't the time for beating around the bush.

"Well, we have been facing some… problems lately" she admitted quietly and rather awkwardly and reluctantly "it's rather difficult to say, it's complicated" _Jesus, what a stupid sentence,_ she thought with irritation. "Things have changed… all right, he wants to, errm, you know, start something. With me." She fell silent, feeling very awkward. She didn't think her father was the right person to discuss her… potential love life with. In fact she didn't think anyone was.

"I see. To start something with you." The look of his blue eyes landed on her face. "And what do _you_ think about it?"

Harry sighed in despair. "And I don't know."

"You don't know!" Freddie's white eyebrows nearly met his hairline. "Well at least you didn't say _I don't want to_ , that's something."

Harry felt herself blush hopelessly. She could only hope in the dim light it wasn't too much noticeable.

"Yes, I don't know, I really don't. I mean, it's Dempsey, Dad. I mean that's true there's a… kind of… attraction between us, but…"

"Oh dear." Lord Winfield laughed. "We both know, Harry, that the phrase _a kind of attraction_ is the understatement of the year in this particular case."

 _Of course it is but you don't need to know everything Daddy_ Harry thought pretending she didn't notice his embarrassing and true remark. "He's a great guy, I know, but… also a player. A womanizer. Flirtatious. Women's favourite pet. This is not what I like. I just don't want to, no, I can't become just another conquest of him!" she finally spat it out.

Freddie remained silent for a while.

"Is he really a player, a womanizer, or he just seemed to be one?" he asked finally.

"What do you mean, _seemed_ to be?" she looked at him astounded. "Why the past tense?"

Freddie smiled warmly at her.

"When I was more or less James' age, well a bit younger than he is now, I also had a reputation of a flirtatious player" he revealed. Harry looked at him, this time in disbelief.

"You?"

"Yes. Of course I don't mean by that I, errm, gave attention to each and every woman that wasn't fast enough to run away" he added slyly. "But I liked the womankind. I loved to woo them, to flirt with them, to smile at them, to look them deeply in the eye, to touch their hands, to dance with them" He smiled broadly. "And then one day I met a beautiful blue-eyed girl named Lucy… and from that day on it was her and only her I was seeing, looking at, wanted to be with, to touch, to hold…." he coughed, evidently embarrassed and touched by his own words. "I still would meet attractive women but I didn't do anything about it, because I didn't need to. I had Lucy. What I want to say is, I don't know if that's the same thing with James. But I think if a man wants 'to start something' with a woman he's been friends with for years it simply cannot be just a fling, a volatile romance."

Harry listened to him feeling a rush of warmth around her heart.

"He may think that now but…" she tried to find the right words "what if after a month or two… you know?"

"Well I can't speak for him however… Personally, I don't think so. Isn't it worth risking and trying? Think, Harriet. It's James. Trustful, loyal, brave man."

"Irresponsible maverick, too. Who's driving me mad at least twelve hours a day, five days a weeks, well, sometimes even more" she smiled thinking about their off time spent together.

"Yes, true. Eccentric, brash, and most of all, the American" Freddie laughed. "And by the way, dear, he is and he'll always be driving you mad - no matter, as a colleague, partner at work, friend or… your man. But one thing is absolutely certain: with him your life would never be boring. It may be good, it may be bad, but it would never, ever be boring."

"I am not sure that kind of life would attract me at most" Harry laughed. "Freddie, what am I supposed to do? We had talked a bit before I left for the funeral. I know what he wants, he knows my, my, my second thoughts. But I can't keep all this on standby, I need to be fair and decide something sooner or later."

"Don't think too much, just ask yourself what you feel. I won't, don't worry, you don't need to blush that much, honey."

"Now that's what makes me blush!" she protested vehemently.

"Like I said: I might be too much of a romantic but don't think, just feel. I know where your fears come from but what I want to say: if there's one man in this world that is utterly, absolutely, completely different from your ex-husband, it's James. Bear that in mind, honey."

* * *

It took a bit more time to get to Camberwell Grove than Harry had thought; after having driven Lord Winfield to his place where Abbott awaited them – Abbott who had decided to return to London despite his cold – and after spending some time there Harry unlocked her house door right before eleven. The house was stuffy so Harry began with opening windows to let the fresh cold air in, and then sat down on the sofa with a glass of white wine, listening to the messages left on her answering machine. The first message was from Angela who was about to be returning to England and informed Harry she was just waiting for a taxi to go to the airport and looked forward to meeting Harry 'very, very soon, dear'. Then, after some unimportant messages from her insurance company, her neighbour and the electrician, the fifth one was from Dempsey. Harry felt a sudden jolt of excitement when she heard his voice – full of life and energy but also, she couldn't help but notice, a bit nervous.

"Um, Harry, it's me. Hi. Um, ok, it's Sunday nine pm now and since ya don't answer the phone I'm assumin' ya not ther' yet unless ya're but don' wanna talk to me" she could hear a smile in his voice. "I hope evry'thin's fine and see ya in the mornin' " and, after a pause, with a bit of hesitation "I miss ya Princess, ya know. Sleep well."

Harry couldn't supress the smile of amusement; long time ago she had noticed the more agitated, nervous, angry or excited Dempsey was, the more he murdered the language. He spoke it quite correct when he was calm and relaxed.

 _Dempsey who was saying he missed her!_

She stopped the machine although there were some more messages to listen to and sipped her wine smiling to herself. Her thoughts returned to the chat with Freddie in the car. She thought again about what he had said about James.

She left the lounge and went upstairs, to her bedroom carrying her suitcase but left it in the corner of the room, she'd unpack it later. She opened a drawer, took out a silver carton box and opened it. She kept some nice relics in there like her mother's engagement ring, a photo of her school girl gang, a medal, but also a dried red rose, a silver dollar, an origami flower… The signs of Dempsey in her private life. Only a few, but so meaningful to her.

Harry looked at the shelf in the open wardrobe where a black hat was sitting in the corner and smiled widely.

 _Whom are you going to be kidding, Harry Makepeace,_ she thought, _look at this box, look at this hat, look at the lollipop in this small vase on the window sill. You were angry with him when he bought you a lollipop, you said you were not a little girl to be apologized by sweets, but you kept it… and isn't it a bit girlish, collecting all these things? You may as well have kept a ticket for a movie you have watched together for the first time and the jigsaw is complete._

She left the box on the top of the chest of drawers and returned downstairs; she was tired but not sleepy at all. It was twenty past eleven, she really should be going to bed. Pouring herself another half glass of wine she decided to take a bath in a while and call it a day.

Harry was so lost in her thoughts about James – in fact she has been all the time since she had left for funeral – and about what Freddie had said about James' loyalty, devotion and trustworthiness that when she sat back on the sofa, another memory has hit her suddenly.

The night after the Thriller Killer had shot himself seconds before Dempsey arrived to the park seeking her, trying to save her life.

Technically he failed, the fact was he arrived too late. But.

 _James stroke her hair when he said casually 'I knew you'd be fine' but she could read so easily from his tensed face, from his frightened_ _eyes he had been far from thinking she'd have been fine. However, she wasn't able to understand fully what his eyes said. She was paralysed with shock, adrenaline started to fall down quickly and she couldn't say a word or make a move. She was just standing there, supported by his strong arm, covered with his jacket, when Spikings and the rest of the team arrived she heard Dempsey saying Harry wasn't going to testify that night and 'try not to listen to me, Boss.' Spikings didn't try to. One look at Harry's white face and he just told Dempsey to take her out of there._

 _He drove her home holding her hand while she sat curled up on the passenger seat beside him, quiet and locked in her own world; at home she just sat down on the same sofa, took a glass of cold water from his hands, then a tad of whisky. She let him to take her shoes off, tried to say thank you but she only moved her lips but no sound came out so she only smiled at him weakly and blankly._

 _James went upstairs and brought down her pyjamas, assisted her to the downstairs bathroom, waited when she changed. She walked back towards the sofa again, she didn't even think of going to her bedroom upstairs, she didn't think of anything. He helped her to lie down on the sofa and covered her up with the thick blanket, turned the upper light off leaving a small lamp on the table and took a place in the armchair right near the sofa. She felt his hand slightly touching her hair, like saying 'I am right here' before she curled up and fell into a heavy half-sleep._

 _Harry spent that night and the two following days on the sofa. She remembered waking up from time to time with Dempsey near by; each time she did he handed her something to drink and to eat (she didn't want to eat), helped her to the bathroom and gave her a fresh t-shirt as she was sweating horribly in her sleep. She hazily remembered Spikings having come over there and talked to James, and also her doctor who said – or was it someone else? – that it was her way to fight against the shock and the best thing was to let her do it. And then she was falling asleep again, a heavy sleep with absolutely no dreams, thank God, till the next awakening. What she was aware of despite the foggy state of her mind was his constant presence, all the time, making her feel safe and relieved._

 _On the third day early morning she woke up suddenly, fresh and conscious, and unbelievably hungry. She looked around and saw James sleeping soundly in the armchair, with a book about the Tudors on his lap. Harry got up, went upstairs to take a shower and generally make herself look like a decent human being, then she walked to the kitchen and a few minutes later Dempsey's famous nose was awaken by the smell of fresh coffee. When, wiping his sleepy eyes he entered the kitchen Harry was throwing the first slices of bacon onto the pan._

 _They ate breakfast in an empathetic silence, didn't feel the urge to talk about what had happened. They knew what they'd just gone through made them closer than anything. Then Dempsey made himself home and asked only one question: "A' ya sure you'll be all right?"_

" _Thank you" she said simply and quietly hoping her look told him 'I know what you did for me and will never forget it'. He only smiled wryly. "What are the partners for, Tiger?"_

 _They met in the office a few hours later and returned to their work as always. Harry knew one thing: if he hadn't been with her those days she would have cracked completely. And the police psychologist she met said he was amazed of how well she had coped with all this crap._

Harry made up her mind, it was eleven thirty and she wouldn't dare to call anyone at this time of the evening. But James was not just 'anyone', he never cared of a savoir-vivre and it was still early for him. Harry lifted the handset and dialled the well known number. Three… five… two… two…

He answered almost immediately which meant he was probably in his living room watching TV maybe? Eating Chinese? Harry's sudden vision of him lying half naked on the sofa with a bottle of beer in his hand was cut off when his "Yo!" rang in her ears.

"Hi" she cleared her throat, her heart beating stupidly quick and loud "hi Dempsey, it's me, I am back."

It took only a while and she heard his voice, a bit surprised, but first of all vibrating with joy.

"It's you! Really!"

"Well yes, I, I just played back your message, and, just thought I'd let you know that I am back home, and everything is OK, and… you know" she answered awkwardly.

"Everything's OK, that good" she just heard a smile in his voice and knew it was a double edged interpretation of her own words. "So how a'ya Princess? Tired?"

"I am, yes. But it would've been worse without your car, thanks again. It's great to drive it, you know now when I know it already you'll have to let me do it more often?" she joked a bit uncertainly but he laughed.

"OK I won't say _anytime ya want it babe_ but try, you may have luck next time" he teased.

"Shall we say… tomorrow?" she was glad this chat was going so well.

"Shall we say... you give me my fancy hat in return then?"

"It's my hat. You gave it to me."

"Only 'cause you asked me to."

"Nevertheless you gave it to me and it's mine now."

"Yeah, OK. Then how'bout… two hours of doing my deskwork and I'll let you drive my car half an hour a week, and of course out of working hours?" he seemed to have fun talking like that, too.

"It's a daylight robbery Dempsey, a shameless daylight robbery. And I wouldn't do a minute of your deskwork even if you gave me the car for all weekends and bank holidays. By the way how was it in the factory when I was out?"

"Oh come on, let's not talk about work tonight" he moaned. "Tomorrow we'll have time for that, and be ready for a long day. Now, I wanna ask you sumthin' " he sounded a little more serious which made her feel shiver down her spine. "It'll be a hell busy week ya'll see but how about a dinner let's say Wednesday?..."

"Dinner" she echoed, trying to supress the smile. "Where? Did you find a nice new place you want to take me to?"

"Errr, yes and no. Actually I meant my place."

"Oh."

That made him laugh his head off. "You're great Harry. If I say I promise I'll be on best of my behaviour will it help you make it to getta the lion's den?"

"It's not what I… Right then" she cut off "Wednesday. Dinner. Seven thirty?"

"Yup. I'll cook something nice."

She held the handset few inches away from her ear and looked at it with astonishment.

"You? Cook? Dinner?" she asked with unhidden incredulity.

"Definitely you need to work harder at your skills of a polite conversation, Harry" he jibed. "This's a bit, you know. Rude. When you sound so surprised at someone's words. In fact you should be proud of yourself as I suppose you're the only person on this planet who can make me cook dinner, Makepeace."

"I suppose you're the only person on this planet who can make me eat what you cooked, Dempsey."

They both laughed, it felt so good to talk like that – friendly, casually yet very intimately.

Both of them wanted to keep on chatting like that but it was nearly midnight and it was Harry who decided to end the call.

"OK I'm gonna hang up now" she announced "I think I deserve a hot bath after such a day" she paused deliberately fancying what he could imagine at the very moment. This kind of her own courage astonished her. But he was tough. "Very good idea Harry. And you know what, it'll take me about twenty minutes to get there so if you need a help to scrub your back…" now it was he who paused suggestively.

Harry laughed, she felt at ease enough not to feel awkward after his remark. "Finish your beer as I am sure you're having one and go to bed James. I guess there will be a lot of work tomorrow so you better get relaxed now."

"Oh" of course he picked up the most important words immediately "regarding relaxation and…"

"Good night Leftenant" laughter was bubbling up in Harry's voice "I do hope your beer is cold enough to chill you a bit. See you in the morning."

"Allright, allright, but wait a second Harry I am serious now. We agreed upon Wednesday already but I need to tell you a few words about the next Saturday…"

When Harry finally soaked in her well-deserved bath she sighed deeply with a great contentment which in fact had nearly nothing to do with the pleasure of hot water and another glass of chilled wine. She lay in there with her eyes closed, smiling to herself. She felt like a teenager and she couldn't remember having felt like that since she was a grown up.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Parking Makepeace's Ford in the car park next morning Dempsey has spotted his Merc which was by the way much cleaner than on the day he had given it to Harry; he grinned in amusement, that was Harry all over. She must have got up early to visit the car wash before coming back to work. Dempsey looked at his watch, it was ten to eight. Shame he hadn't arrived first, he thought suddenly, he could have been waiting for her with a fresh pot of coffee. On the other hand she might have been here since six thirty, the little good policewoman who had inexcusably left one working day!

If she hadn't called him yesterday night he would've been nervous and completely uncertain and full of hesitation and fears. But now he knew well what that call had meant. Evidently Harry had had her time _to think the things over_ during her absence and it seemed she had decided - well at least that was what he was hoping for - to give them a go!

He dreamt about her this night again but this time these dreams were neither upsetting nor bothering. They weren't innocent, either. They were hot, as hot as was Harry in them. In fact when he first woke up at about 5 am he found himself in trouble, so to speak.

Taking two stairs at a time he ran upstairs, smiling to himself. Yeah, it's gonna be a busy day but he'd do something to make it nice as well for both of them. He opened the office door vigorously and then his common and booming "Yo, guys!" exclamation has died on his lips.

The floor and all the desks within sight were covered with sheets of paper that seemed to be the crime records; among the desks Watson and Fry were buzzing in hurry, shuffling the papers from one place to another and wiping them with tissues. Chas sat on one of the desks, self-evidently entertaining himself but Dempsey immediately focused on Harry who was standing right by the door, leaning her back against the wall on a very narrow piece of the floor free of papers, eating apple and observing that weird scene with a deadpan face.

"What the hell's goin' on here?" he asked, amazed, instead of simple _mornin' Harry,_ although today he'd rather like _morning, honey_ anyway. Jesus, she looked great dressed in this blue something with short sleeves revealing the slightly tanned skin. He would give a year of his life just to take her in his arms now and kiss her but it was absolutely out of the question in the office full of guys. Why the hell had they all arrived so early?

"The most used phrase in these premises, isn't it" Harry remarked biting into the apple. She sounded cool and friendly as always and she kept the stony face but her shining eyes warm on him told a different tale, full of simple joy of seeing him again. "The boys were playing with a coffee pot and two mugs and you can see the result. Coffee's everywhere. It's good to lock the papers in a file cabinet at the end of the day, believe me."

"Don't worry Dempsey" Fry rushed to explain "your papers are OK, just a few drops of coffee and I have wiped them off immediately. So no problem…"

"Well just you try and tell me my papers aren't OK" Dempsey growled menacingly and wanted to add something else but Watson interjected: "... and your jacket's fine too, I've checked."

Dempsey slowly turned his head and couldn't suppress the wide grin when he saw his denim jacket hanging off the backrest of his chair. He just realized it had been at Harry's all the time since that memorable evening up until this morning! Struggling with the grin he looked straight in Harry's eyes meeting her blue gaze. They smiled at each other knowingly.

"Go on guys, Spikings is just parking his car!" Dave shouted looking out of the window. "He'll be impressed seeing this mess!"

"Oh God" Fry whispered through white lips. His face turned a kind of pale blue.

Dempsey grinned with merciless satisfaction. "Don't worry Fry I'll call your mum and tell her you were very brave in the last minutes o' your life. How d'ya like the idea, boy?"

* * *

Dempsey thought with irritation he had never realized he worked with so many people. People who relentlessly wanted this and that from him!

He was dying to talk to Harry in private, just a few words, five minutes, that's all. Wishful thinking… As soon as Spikings emerged the office the real hell began. The previous night a murder of a politician had been committed in the City and the team tasks needed to be reassigned, so after the long briefing Dempsey spent a lot of time with Chas in Spikings' office fighting to keep his team unchanged and discussing the necessary moves. When he finally left the room it was almost noon and Harry was gone. He groaned inwardly. "Where's Makepeace, I need her urgently" he asked Frank, God only knew it was true.

"What?" Frank looked at him absently. "Oh, yeah, she's in the meditation room."

What they called 'meditation room' was a small poor cubby-hole at the end of the corridor, with a small desk and one chair only - it used to be a tiny utility room before - where those of them who were longing for a little privacy could hole up in and work at peace. No-one used it often as there was no space there for files and other documents and it was more convenient to sit in the main office, with all information within reach. Dempsey rushed to there, enjoying the fact he will be alone with Harry for a while.

"Gotcha at last" he announced cheerfully when he entered the small room. Harry sat at the desk preoccupied staring at small objects laid out in front of her. Lost in her thoughts, she lifted her head and looked at him with a smile but a bit unconsciously. "What have ya got there, Tiger?" he touched her cheek briefly.

"Dalley's things found in his pockets" she said tilting her head a fraction just to extend the moment of his touch "I am searching for clues but again, it isn't working."

He leaned in looking over her shoulder. "Yeah, I remember… An earring, a handkerchief… a pen… a key and a clew… and you said you were searching for clues, there you got one?" he grinned.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd, for a man, to carry a clew in his pocket?" she asked.

"What's really thrillin' me is the key" he put his hand caressively on her shoulder, with all his might trying to focus on job. She looked up at him with interest.

"And why is that? You have seen it before."

He winced. "And this is the moment I need to tell you something, Princess."

"Well go on then" she prompted him.

He ran his fingers through the thick hair. "And I'm afraid you ain't gonna like it."

"What have you done" it wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"Well, nothing big" he pouted his lips in what he believed was a completely innocent smile. "The end justifies the means, ya know."

"Tell me what you have done. Now!" she demanded glaring at him.

"Well" he grinned "you were out of town and I felt a kinda lonely so, I went to The Black Marketeer again and… found Keith Lymon. Or, to be honest, _he_ found _me_ , on the street."

"Dempsey!"

"Care to know what he told me, Angel?" he hoped to sound unconcerned but he knew she'd be mad with him. And so she was.

"I don't believe it!" she rose from her chair piercing him with these unbelievably blue eyes with anger. "You went there, with no support, without having told anyone…"

"How can you know I haven't told anyone?"

"Because we didn't talk about it during the briefing today which would have taken place if you had!"

"Oh."

"Yes, _oh_! What did you think you were doing James? You are completely irresponsible, impossible, irrational…"

"Irresistible…" he tried to save his skin with his charm but it didn't work this time. Harry had a lot to say about his stupid ideas. Chas and Watson passing by the door heard the staccato speech of hers and they stopped abruptly, frozen to the spot and looking at each other with horror.

"Again?" Watson whispered in despair.

"Oh God please not again" Chas moaned quietly. "I wouldn't survive it this time."

Watson moved and sneaked up on the door where he listened for a while. Then he turned to Chas with laughing eyes.

"That's OK, mate, that's OK. Dempsey just did something stupid and Harry is chewing him out. Everything's fine, mate. We got back to normal."

"Phew" Chas couldn't restrain himself from a sigh of relief and they walked on.

"Are you listening to me?" Harry asked furiously. He was looking at her with eyes full of happiness.

"I am."

"You don't seem so! What are you thinking of?"

"You're shoutin' at me, Harry."

She didn't understand. "So what?"

"You're shoutin' at me, as always. Boy, it feels so good when you're just shoutin' at me."

The penny dropped, she knew what he was so disarmingly getting at and she relented. "Well don't expect I'll stop in the nearest future if you still do such stupid things! This guy hates you, don't you remember that?"

"Oh no, that's not so bad. Remember what you said after our last encounter with him? That first we hated each other, then we respected each other and if there was a third time we'd fund the solid friendship between us."

"And, did you?" she asked sarcastically.

"Hell, no" he sat on the edge of the desk. "But finally I got some information worth risking."

"Which is?"

"A Lymon's mate was a kind of an escort for our stiff when he wanted to entertain himself. And, what Lymon knew was Dalley had a secret pied-à-terre somewhere in town. In other words not only has he had fun in Soho but sometimes he used to order some fresh meat to be delivered to an extra apartment he rent. My nose tells me we could find something interesting there. Thing is, we don't know where it is."

"Lymon gave you an information? And what was your quid pro quo? I mean, what did you give him in return? I can't believe he just told you something out of affection for you" she jibed.

"I know what quid pro quo means, Harry" he said resentfully. "I didn't give him anything. I just promised we'd forget about this dump and all the dirty business there."

"You can't promise things like that!"

"Don't worry, I said _we_ would forget it. But there's also the vice squad involved, remember? I can't speak for them" he grinned. Harry shook her head and tutted disapprovingly.

"How about this guy, Dalley's escort as you called him? He must know the place."

"No one's seen him for weeks."

Harry rolled her eyes. "Well done, really. Problem solved."

"What can I say Harry, shame he hasn't attached the address tag to the key, would be easier."

"OK anyway we need to think of something" Harry sat on the desk next to him, it was so small their arms touched. "It might be a way to find something more about his life and his relationships, yes, but we might as well start visiting the random houses in London trying to fit the key to the holes. Guess we'd find the right one about the year two thousand and seventeen."

"We'll find a way. A good brainstorm will help" he wrapped his arm around her waist, trying to pull her closer. Harry looked at him sharply.

"This is what you call a brainstorm maybe?" she asked sweetly.

"Yeah why not" he nuzzled her hair and for a second she let him, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. It felt so good...

"Nice dress, Tiger" he murmured, stroking the fabric, his voice was soft and tender. Harry thought about how much time she had spent this morning standing in front of her wardrobe trying to choose something _very_ nice, and _very_ sexy, and about the lingerie she had put on, just to feel... special. After a while she straightened with a sigh. "I don't think we'll find the way this way."

"At what time do we have this Atherton from Oklahoma City?" he asked out of the blue. She looked at him surprised. "At three."

"Great" he slipped off the desk and reached his hand out to her. "C'mon Princess, let's go."

"Where to?"

"Where to?" he raised his right eyebrow. "Out to lunch! Dontcha think we deserved one?"

"The cantine?"

"Nope."

"Bramcote?" she tried again.

"Noooope" he nearly sang it. "Take your hat and gloves, lady, and off we go. A nice place, ten minutes by car from here. Let's go."

Intrigued and amused, she followed him.

* * *

"Pine and Apple" was a nice place, indeed. A small pub Harry has never been to, cosy and quiet at this time of the day.

When they left the car Dempsey took her by the hand lacing their fingers together and then in the pub still didn't let go of her hand, leading her to the bar. To be honest Harry felt tense and awkward in this quite new situation of theirs but told herself to relax and enjoy. She hoped she could. What seemed completely natural and enjoyable for him made her nervous, it felt so strange to walk with him holding hands… but she loved it. It _may_ have felt strange but it felt lovely, and cute, and…

They have ordered at the bar and with their drinks they sat down at the small table standing alone at the wall. Harry sipped her wine. "When did you find this place?" she asked. "We've never been to here before."

"I came here once some time ago" he answered vaguely "far enough from the office, no guys from the factory comin' here. You like it?"

The waitress brought their food and James looked critically at Harry's plate. "How come you can live on rabbit food twenty four seven?" he asked with amusement.

"It's a very good salad with roasted duck breast Dempsey and it's very satisfying. And much more healthy than your beefburger, however at least this one's homemade, not like that junk from McDonald's".

"They don't know how to make real burgers here" he grinned, and took a huge bite of the burger ignoring the cutlery. "I'll make one for you someday, you'll see the difference."

"Is it what you're going to make for the promised dinner?" she looked at him through her long eyelashes.

"My heart's bleeding Harry" he did his best to look hurt and shocked. "Beefburgers for dinner? Even a guy like me knows it would be very improper." Somehow he liked the fact she had mentioned the planned dinner.

She put down the fork and looked at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Then what are you going to surprise me with?"

"Yes, that's the word Makepeace. Surprise. Do you know what it means? But don't worry. No hotdogs."

"That's a relief" they smiled at each other, now it was Dempsey who stopped eating, he took a swig of his beer and made a serious face.

"Harry there's somethin' I need askin' ya."

She straightened in her chair and was not able to hide her frightened look. He, of course, noticed it. "Relax Princess, don't be gettin' nervous" he took her hand in his placatingly.

"I am not getting nervous!"

"Yes, you are" he smiled looking into her eyes "but you shouldn't be. Well" he continued slowly, leaning in and lazily caressing her fingers "when you left on Thursday Spikings called me over… to discuss… my future at SI-10. He asked me about my plans and gave me a few suggestions…"

"Meaning?" she asked hoarsely. Their heads were just inches away which made their talk very intimate.

"Well" he shrugged "he said I could go back to the States now if I wanted to. I could stay till the end of the year here and then go back to the States if I wanted to. Or…" he paused "I could try to apply for a permanent job and residence here… if I wanted to. As a Detective Inspector by the way which I am fairly sure you know as Spikings has told you about it already."

Her heart made a flip. "And what did you tell him" she asked lowering her voice involuntarily. He smiled warmly at her.

"That I need to discuss it with you."

"You told him you'd need to discuss it _with me_?"

"Well that I need to discuss it, that's what I said. But I guess Spikings knew who I meant, we both know he's not stupid. Who else should I discuss it with?" his mind returned to the evening and the chat with the Boss in the pub a few weeks ago. "Never mind, that's not the point. I'd have discussed it _with you_ if you hadn't left ten minutes earlier. But we can do it now. So... " he paused "what d'ya say Harry? Should I stay or should I go?"

There was this sly spark in his look that she knew he knew what she'd say. Anyway her heart stopped beating for the while and she couldn't say a word. She fixed her gaze on his eyes and just couldn't look away. She bit her lower lip what of course made Dempsey's world spinning round. _Jesus, she is so sexy when she does that, each and every time_ , he thought waiting for her answer. He knew what it would be but was curious if she was able to say it straight without beating around the bush. He wanted to make her say it straight.

"Isn't it… obvious James?" her voice faded away.

He raised his eyebrow, tilting his head and nibbling his lower lip with the fingers of his left hand while his right one still held hers. "Well… yeah maybe but I'd like to hear it anyway. You know, to be sure."

 _Bastard, he was teasing her mercilessly._ She got herself a grip immediately.

"Well, I'd say it would give you a few profits if you stayed here."

"Like what?"

She wasn't going to lose this duel of the two tough natures.

"Like… having good times maybe?"

His eyes flashed in a way she liked. "How good?"

"Very good?"

That was it.

"If you say so?" he looked into her eyes that were full of unspoken promises.

"I say so" unbelievable how blue and shining these beautiful eyes were!

"Well" he murmured still keeping her gaze "then there's another problem."

"Hmmm?" she said lazily. She was so lost in his look she hardly understood what he said.

"Exams."

She emerged suddenly. "Eeee what?"

"Exams, Harry. I may not pass it. I am just a simple cop and I'm not good at learning and stuff. I may fail and I would never live that down I am serious now."

She laughed happily. "Don't be silly James it's not an exam for a post of the King of England, it's just a confirmation of your skills. I'm sure you'll pass it."

"Promise?"

"I will help you if you want me to" she said impishly. "I am good at teaching and stuff".

He could hardly believe she was provoking him that shamelessly!

"OK then" he squeezed her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "Then let's go back to the office, I need to talk to Spikings urgently. And then you might start teaching me. And stuff."

She was still smiling stupidly happy to herself when they made their way to the door but this time they didn't turn to the main entrance they had used before but to the side exit through the narrow dark corridor leading to the car park. Just halfway through Dempsey stopped. "Wait" he said.

She turned to him. "What?"

Immediately and without warning he took her in his arms pulling her close. "I've been waiting for it for four days, damn" he murmured lowering his head and plunging his mouth on hers.

Before she realized what was happening she responded, she flew her arms around his neck and they kissed madly, fervently, raking their fingers through each other's hair and oh boy she'd been waiting for it too, she'd missed it so much she thought feeling his hot and rough kisses on her lips and over her face everywhere and then going back to her lips again, his mouth so hungry and demanding… like hers, his tongue against hers, and their hands all over each other. She didn't know how long it lasted and was emerged from this madness by a hoarse voice that sounded suddenly next to them she nearly hit the ceiling:

"Good God, people! Get a room upstairs!"

An old guy stood there at the door looking at them with both amusement and admiration. Harry raised her hands to face. _Good God_ , indeed, for the first time in her life she got caught red handed like that, she had never allowed herself to do such things in public… well, not entirely in public, but anyway, witnessed, oh God, how could it happen?! What was he doing to her?! She mumbled an excuse and hurried outside trying to collect herself. Dempsey cooled off much faster and he even managed to grin at the guy: "Hell no, these rooms must be poor, home's better."

When he left the pub, still grinning like a monkey Harry was already waiting at the car, leaning against the passenger door; she gave him a sharp look but it was warm and loving enough to keep him at ease. When they sat already in the car her discomfort somehow slipped away at all and she managed to ask casually and a bit mischievously: "So, no comment about the guy's words? It isn't like you."

He couldn't hide his amusement when he answered: "Well it was temptin' but I thought better of it."

She laughed heartily. "Very wise."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

"Ya know this Oklahoma guy?" asked Dempsey. They were walking upstairs to the interrogation room on the top floor of the building.

"Hardly. I met him a few times on several occasions. It's Peter I know better, the younger one. Why are you calling Charles Oklahoma guy, he was there on a business trip only!"

Dempsey shrugged. "I need to tell them apart. Too many Athertons in this case."

Harry rolled her eyes. "Well at least try not to address him by this name, he'd be surprised."

Charles Atherton waited for them already, in the company of Tony's, one of the younger officers. What Dempsey noticed at once was that 'Oklahoma guy' was devilishly handsome and dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. And his matching tie! He stood up when they entered the room.

"Harriet" he greeted Harry so casually as though he was the host here. This little Winfield girl was a real hottie, he thought, perhaps he could invite her for dinner some day. "Long time no see. How is Simon?" he asked cordially. "You were at this luckless party together, weren't you?"

Dempsey winced painfully. Hell, being on cloud nine lately he had completely forgotten the damned shrink. Harry kept the stony face although she felt like laughing suddenly.

"Well I suppose he's fine" she said vaguely "haven't seen him for a while. So, shall we start?"

* * *

"As far as we know, Mr Atherton" Harry opened after having recorded the interview details "Jason Dalley was a friend of yours. Was it a close relationship?"

"Well we met couple of years ago in Los Angeles. The company I work for is stuck to the Hollywood business. I wouldn't say we were friends but good colleagues, yes. We would meet up quite often, in London and in LA, for business purposes but also for private dinner sometimes. He was a clever guy."

Dempsey raised his eyebrow.

"So, what did you do when you met up" he asked. "What did you talk about, for example?"

Charles Atherton shrugged.

"This and that. Nothing important, at least I can't recall anything that would be other than business things or just talking about life, you know."

"And what was that, the talking about life?" Dempsey pushed him.

Atherton seemed a bit irritated. "Like I said, Mr Dempsey, just talking. About our holiday plans, our girlfriends, families, some gossip about people we knew or about people from business. If you're asking if there were any serious and sincere talks, we weren't that close. And I am rather a private person. And so was he."

"But he met your family before they started working on the film in England" Harry joined the conversation "how did it happen?"

"Ah, once we met at the airport in LA by chance, we flew together to London so I invited him for a weekend at our place. He liked England a lot, he was very keen on English way of life…"

"Upper class, I assume?" Harry added. Atherton laughed.

"Yes, you're right. I must say it was a kind of idée fixe of him. In fact being among us he would behave like a regular housewife at a party of the biggest Hollywood stars. Such a weakness for posh and beautiful" he smiled indulgently. "So I invited him, he spent a weekend at Atherton House. It was… three years ago, I think. Since then he was there a few times."

"Where did you use to meet when he came to England?" Dempsey asked. Atherton looked at him surprised.

"In restaurants. Where else?"

"Any entertainment, too? I mean, did you go also to a club, or a late night show?"

"No, Mr Dempsey. I am not that kind. And neither was Jason, I think."

 _Ah_ Dempsey smiled to himself. _What a great observer ya are, boy. A pretty good judge of people._

"What can you say about his private life in London?" Harry asked.

"He had girlfriends, of course, but I guess it's not a crime?" Charles smiled dismissively. "He was single, handsome and he had money. A single man in London, long way from home… lots of pressure… and lots of temptations, you know. We're all human."

* * *

"So" Harry sat down at her desk.

"So" Dempsey echoed broodily.

"So?" Fry asked expectantly. They both looked at him, then at each other and at Fry again. Fry panicked. "What? I just thought…"

"Well don't think Fry, just make us beverages" Dempsey demanded "tea for Sergeant, coffee for me."

"You shouldn't ask him to do things like that" Harry admonished her partner quietly "he's not your butler, he is working with us on this case."

"Yup but he's my junior and he's working with us to get more experience and be promoted to a DS" Dempsey grinned "he should learn about his full duties and since this world exists..."

Harry flashed him the _how-nice-to-see-you-in-trouble_ look. "Are you going to tell me, making you coffee is a DS duty?" she asked with the voice too silky to be genuine.

He found himself being jeopardised. "No."

"No it isn't?"

"No I wasn't going to tell you that, I am not stupid" he winked. "Do I take it you're never ever gonna make me coffee again?"

She looked up at him with a disapproving expression. "Not in the predictable period of time."

"So what are you gonna do now guys?" Chas went round Dempsey's desk and sat at the edge of it "Fry, tea for me too, please. Thanks."

Fry sighed but obeyed. Dempsey looked at his partner.

"Do you think what I think Harry?"

"Uh huh I think I do" she nodded her agreement. "Do I?"

"What are you getting at?" Chas demanded impatiently.

"There's somethin' in this man" Dempsey said twiddling a pen. "You believe he doesn't know nothin' about Dalley's life? Huh? My nose and Harry's hunch tell us he ain't that unaware as he tried to seem to. Sounded so naive, _holiday plans, girlfriends, families,_ I don't buy it. He's a grown up, must've heard sumthin 'bout his pal's kinky odds…"

"Precisely" Harry nodded again. She paused trying to weigh her words properly. "Seems each and every male on in this planet knows everything about Dalley's dirty little secrets but all that's been kept from Charles Atherton? How and why? They didn't want to damage his innocent soul?" she snorted. "Something's wrong here."

"Perhaps he doesn't know we know" Chas remarked. "And what he knows he doesn't want to reveal as a gentleman."

"Yep that's quite possible" Dempsey agreed "but as the good subject of Lizzy the Queen he should share his knowledge with us, it's 'bout a murder" he grinned.

"If I were you I'd restrain myself from calling Her Majesty _Lizzy_ _the_ _Queen,_ Dempsey" Spikings emerged from behind the door "try to start using the proper title at last, would you?"

Dempsey straightened up in his chair. "OK Chief!"

"And this applies also to the title of the authority you report directly to" Spikings glared at the Yank and entered his office carefully closing the door behind him. Harry hid her smirk, opened her notebook and checked something, then raised her head. "Fancy a trip, Dempsey?"

"Always" he grinned "where are ya takin' me to?"

"You and Fry, to be precise. As you've noticed Fry needs more experience" she said sweetly and he knew she took her revenge on him for this _coffee-sergeant_ thing "I have a desire to pay a visit to the lady I've met some time ago. I'd like to talk to Mrs Elizabeth Summerside again."

* * *

"And why Mrs Summerside?" Fry asked reasonably when they got into Harry's car. She gave him keys and went to the back seat and to her slight irritation and amusement Dempsey followed her, taking the seat next to her. She glared at him and mouthed "what?!" but he kept an innocent look. "Go on Fry, we don't have all day", he chased the younger colleague up, who, embarrassed with his role, didn't give a single thought to this untypical seating arrangement.

"I just want to ask her a few more questions" she paused. So far no one but Dempsey and she knew about the victim's secret pied-à-terre although she knew it was time to inform Spikings about it "... and it's a good tactic Fry to return to a prey and attack when they've dropped their alertness already."

"For a reason you sound very true Harry" Dempsey jibed "watch out Fry when you see her in action. You'll learn a lot."

She glanced at him sideways. "Oh really."

He didn't answer but secretly took hold of her fingers, squeezing them lightly and intertwining with his. It wasn't within Fry's sight but anyway somehow she didn't care. _You're evidently mellowing Harry,_ she thought just taking the pleasure from this innocent and tender caress.

* * *

At the previous encounter with Elizabeth Summerside Harry had had a thought that had Dempsey been with her he'd have drooled on the floor at the sight of the lawyer and, on the other hand, she wouldn't have given him a single look. Now, funny, she thought totally otherwise.

Elizabeth was mad like hell when she was interrupted her afternoon meeting with some VIPs by Bella, her assistant who told her with the startled voice someone was waiting for her and it was urgent and couldn't wait. She would have skinned Bella alive for disturbing her and her clients but she knew the girl would've never allowed herself to do such a horrible violation if she hadn't been forced to. So she excused Mr Smithley and other clients and left the room with ice fury.

And there she was again, bloody DS Makepeace looking like an angel of justice, so absolutely cool, posh, perfect and… and eyeing Elizabeth with disgust, yes. She was accompanied by two men, a young man with boyish face and big eyes and… well well well. Who was the other one? A tall dark haired man leaned on the counter of the reception desk. Dishy, hard to deny it. Very sexy, nonchalant and relaxed, but there was something in his posture that suggested his permanent vigilance on everything.

"DS Makepeace" Elizabeth greeted Harry icily. "What brings you here again and why is it so important?"

"Mrs Summerside" Harry's answer was equally freezing. "Still the same inquiry. You may remember we've been investigating the murder of your friend" she added bit sarcastically.

"And why does it take so long?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.

Harry ignored the subtle attack. "This is my partner Lieutenant James Dempsey and this is DC Fry. Shall we go and sit somewhere as we need to talk."

"Lieutenant Dempsey" ignoring the youngster Mrs Summerside bobbed her head towards the handsome man. She couldn't help but notice his brown eyes landed on her face and scrutinized her coldly, as if he was a scientist examining a rare, dangerous species. She didn't like that kind of look. But she definitely fancied the man and the undeniable sexual magnetism he was oozing. To her own surprise she felt the urge to reach out her hand and touch the muscular arm underneath the jacket sleeve. She hasn't had a man since Jason was murdered, and this guy was certainly worthy of note.

"So what can I do for you?" Elizabeth Summerside set the ball when they all sat in the armchairs in a small library. Bella brought them coffee and retreated quickly to her office. "I thought we discussed everything when you did me the honour of visiting my office the first time round?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you but you can never say you discussed _everything_ until the inquiry has been closed" Harry responded coldly.

"Yeah if ya don't mind answering a few question..." Dempsey added, looking up and down at her.

"You're American _too_?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows slightly. The little emphasis on the word _too_ sounded as though she equated Dempsey with Dalley in a way and it made Harry furious. "How come you work for the British force?"

Dempsey ignored her question. "Jason Dalley was your beau. I want to know where you would meet during your relationship."

"What do you mean?" Mrs Summerside frowned, evidently and truly astonished and amused. She leaned forward a fraction. "Would the answer 'bed' be correct, Lieutenant?" she asked looking him straight in the eye.

Despite herself Harry felt amusement. This woman was incredible. _Ok James let's see how you'll cope with her attitude._ She sat herself more comfortably and looked at her partner.

Not even a muscle flinched in Dempsey's face. "I'm impressed madam but we all are quite busy and still have a lot to do today so would ya please tell us where your… _trysting places_ were?"

Elizabeth looked carefully at his calm face. "I see it's serious, isn't it?" she smiled lazily. Fry was watching her with a mix of anxiety and fascination. Dempsey smiled, too, but there was something very unpleasant in his smile and it made Elizabeth turn away from the idea of being half-cold and half-seductive.

"Usually we used to meet in my apartment, as there's a big cosy bedroom there" she explained defiantly, still looking into Dempsey's eyes "and his apartment as well. He got a lot of stuff there, the stuff we both needed during our parties and it was meaningless to bring it to my place each and every time. Oh, and there were times we would meet right here, in this office. Off the clock."

Harry felt sick listening to her. This woman reminded her Rowena Phelps but Rowena was not even a bit so rotten to the core. "So no other places? Has he ever invited you to another apartment of his?" she asked.

Elizabeth looked at her. "He didn't have any other apartment, DS Makepeace, as far as I know. Why would he? The one he held was spacious, comfortable and discreet. And conveniently located."

"Mrs Summerside, I advise you think very carefully about how you are going to answer this question again" Harry warned. It was a bluff, she had no idea whether Liz Summerside knew anything and moreover she had no hunch she would but it wouldn't hurt to insist. The glance of the lawyer however remained cold and honest.

"I don't need to rethink my answer over as this is the only one I can come up with" she answered "had Jason any other place to live I don't know anything about it. Dare I ask what makes you think he would?"

* * *

They returned to the office after eight pm. During their journey back Fry was evidently agitated and couldn't pipe down, commenting on Elizabeth's behaviour and attitude. He even used the word _slut_ once and evidently he wasn't charmed by her personality. Either Harry and James shared his feel but they hardly answered, lost in their thoughts on the back seat of the car. Dempsey was rubbing his chin, apparently wondering of something deeply. Harry watched him sideways quite curious what he was thinking of.

"Right, Boss, ya know what I think?" he asked while they sat down around the table in the office, together with Spikings ad Chas. "Got an idea. Since everyone's playin' a fool all the time we'd try it different."

"Meaning?" Spiking asked sharply.

"TV and papers. A picture of the stiff in the next issue of daily papers and on TV. Should anyone recognize the guy please contact us and so on. There must be someone living in the neighborhood of his pied-á-terre, who has seen him once or even spoken to him."

"Bit risky" Harry noticed "the embassy might not like it, neither the family."

He looked at her. "Yeah but have ya got a better idea? Everythin' failed so far. We cannot walk along the streets of London askin' random people and shovin' his picture in their faces."

"Agreed" Spikings growled "we've kept the low profile as long as we were able to **,** now we can't. Chas, arrange this. I will speak to the embassy tomorrow in the first place."

"Tomorrow, Sir?" Harry raised her eyebrows. "What if they don't agree?"

"Fait accompli, Sergeant. I don't care if they agree or not. I'm gonna do it, come what may. Now please write your reports. I need to be filled in before the new morning has broken."

It was nearly eleven when Dempsey raised from his desk to make more coffee but he stopped halfway when he looked at Harry. She was writing notes in her notebook but looked terribly knackered. She just rubbed her eyes with a gesture of fatigue. Something came to his mind and he sat back on his chair.

"What time did ya get up today Princess?" he asked nearly cheerfully. She glanced at him.

"About five thirty, I guess. Why do you ask?"

"Because it's a quarter to eleven which means you've been up all day for more than sixteen hours now, after only a very few hours of sleep. Don'tcha think it's time to go home and have a rest?"

She shook her head with aggravation. "We have a job to do Dempsey, I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes you are. You won't be useful here if you wipe yourself out. Come on, get your stuff together and off we go. I'll drive you home."

"I have my car in the car park here, you don't need to drive me home" she said with tiredness, leaning her head on her palm. Horrible fatigue was overwhelming her.

"Yeah but you shouldn't be driving when you're such worn out" he pointed "so I'll drive ya and pick ya up tomorrow mornin'. Come on, let's go."

"Would you stop commanding me?" she snapped at him but at the same time she stood up taking her bag and jacket off the rack. Dempsey grabbed his jacket too and they both walked to the door.

* * *

Surprisingly to Dempsey, Harry had fallen asleep on their way to her home and she didn't wake when he parked up next to her door and turned the engine off. She didn't even move, her eyes closed, her head leaned on the headrest.

Dempsey watched her in her sleep for a long while being aware of the warm rush of tenderness filling up his heart boundlessly. So many times throughout all these years they would sit like that, in the car, at night, he used to see her sleep so often, but this time was different: it wasn't Harry his partner, his colleague, his friend anymore; now it was Harry his love, someone to protect and defend, to stand by her side and just to be with her. Now he realized clearly how much he had fallen for her and he hadn't done anything not to because he hadn't wanted to do anything not to. Whatever the future could bring he was for her and she was for him and he felt it the same way that he knew another day would come. It was undeniable and inevitable. What surprised him he had felt all this in such an ordinary, simple moment of all. But on the other hand, perhaps it was as good a moment as any?

Trying to harness the feelings burning up in him he leaned forward and brushed her hair with his lips lightly. "Hey Princess wake up the carriage has arrived home" he murmured in her ear.

She straightened up, looking around unconsciously, she realized they were at her door and looked at him with surprise. "Good God I've fallen asleep" she murmured astonished. "You were right this time, I need to have some sleep."

"I'm always right when it's about you" he smiled holding her gaze. "Aren't I Tiger? So you don't need being mad at me when I'm, as you say, _commanding you_."

"I'm not being mad at you" she sighed "it's just sometimes I'm getting a bit irritated when you're getting overprotective of me."

"Well don't blame me for that" he said quietly "think that's obvious, that's the way it goes when…" he paused abruptly. This was neither the time nor the place. "... when you care about someone."

She lowered her eyes and said nothing, trying to quieten a sudden jolt of excitement in her soul caused by his words and his look.

Dempsey leaned over her and kissed her; it was to be just a brief tender goodnight kiss but to his delight she leaned closer a bit to extend the moment of his caress stroking his jaw and he felt her lips over his for quite a long time before he thought it better to stop.

"Get your sexy ass and move out" he demanded with a small laugh "bedtime, Tiger. Don't tempt me to follow you, OK? I will pick you up at seven thirty, fine?"

She reached her hand out to open the car door. "Fine" she said looking at him slyly "but seven fifteen if you can manage it. I have very good Colombian coffee to treat you to. But as _Harry_ , not as _the Sergean_ t, remember."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

The phone rang just when Harry popped into Camberwell Grove in the afternoon. She answered in rush. "Makepeace" she announced.

"Hi Harry, it's Angie!" a vigorous voice resonated on the phone.

"Angie!" Harry exclaimed with joy "Finally back from overseas! I missed you!"

"And I missed you too. How are you doing honey?"

"Well, good, you know" Harry hoped to sound casually. It was absolutely too early to fill her friend in with some subtle changes of her life. "As they say no news is good news".

"Is it so?" Angela laughed knowingly "but you know, I have called Mary and I've already heard you were dating a new boyfriend, the sunny boy Simon McP, is it true?"

Harry was so surprised she couldn't gather her minds together.

"Well… no, it's not true. We aren't dating, dear. Yes we just met several times but…"

"But?" Angie pushed, curiosity got the better of her. Harry didn't like this kind of investigation.

"You know. Somehow you just know it wouldn't work."

"Is that so?" Harry could picture Angie's raised eyebrows. "All right, you must tell me more about it. And in fact that's why I am calling you. I mean not because of Simon, but I am mounting a welcome party on Saturday, I haven't seen you all for ages! So come over for weekend, we're beginning on Saturday at seven and finish at the last drink."

"Oh Angela, I am sorry, I can't. I've plans already."

"What? You have plans? You can't! What plans can you have when your best friend comes back from the overseas after six months and wants to see you! Tell me now!" Angie demanded, sounding both amazed and amused.

"Er. I am, I am going to a barbecue."

"To a barbecue! Who's making a barbecue this Saturday, seems I'm not quite up to speed!"

Harry cleared her throat. "The Embassy of The United States."

"Harry!"

"What? I am telling you the truth. You know, the celebration of the 4th of July."

"It was last week!"

"And last week they celebrated it with the bold and beautiful of Great Britain. Now it's a party for, errr, ordinary US citizens living here."

"Aaaaah" said Angie in the _I-got-you_ tone. "And who's _the ordinary US citizen_ you are going with? The Jazzy James by coincidence?"

"By no coincidence. You know it's him. How many other Americans do I know? He's asked me to go, so, well, why not."

"Oh yes. And it has, of course, absolutely nothing to do with the fact you have turned the Sunny Simon down" Angie jibed.

"Absolutely nothing!" Harry felt the rush of hot coming to her cheeks. "And I haven't turned him down!"

"Yeah, tell me about it… All right you liar, now listen" Angie lowered her voice confidentially. "Why don't you come over here after this barbecue? You don't have to stay there till the very end, do you."

"Nope, I don't think so. Oh Angie, I'd love to, but it would be unfair to James, I mean, Dempsey, to leave him and go for another party, you know. Rude."

"For goodness sake, Harriet Makepeace, I think you've completely lost your mind already. Just bring him here, too!"

After the call Harry hung up and looked at the phone with disbelief. Those girls! Gossip, gossip everywhere! Angie had just landed on Heathrow and first thing she already knew from the girls was a potential dating of Harry's! Why are people so keen on someone else's life, for God's sake?

Her girls had always supported her in her life choices, events and career. But truth was, they were much more interested about what was going between her and Dempsey than about what was going in the factory. And Harry lived a hectic life during Angie's absence but what Angie was most interested in was how she _had turned Simon down_.

Well she hadn't, really, but… her mind turned back to that important evening and to what happened after Dempsey had left… it was really weird.

 _Simon paced few steps, stopped and observed Harry carefully._

" _I, err, think something happened here" he remarked. "I am sorry Har I intruded…"_

 _Harry tried to get a grip on herself. "No, that's OK" she moved her hand over her face. "I am sorry too… it was… a bit…" She sat down on the couch and took a deep breath. "Fancy a drink, Simon?"_

" _No thanks" Simon frowned, looking at her and decided to go on. He just knew it was the right moment. "Listen Harry, I see you're distracted… but I just want to ask you something."_

" _Yes?" Harry felt a shiver run up her spine. That didn't sound good._

 _He cleared his throat. "Harry… have you ever had a feeling… that you meet someone who seems to be a perfect match for you… you have so much in common, the background, the sense of humour, similar view of the world, and you have so much fun together…"_

 _Oh God no, Harry thought in panic, please not this, and not now!_

"… _so it seems so obvious and reasonable… and yet you know it would never work?"_

 _Makepeace couldn't believe her ears. She looked at him astonished._

" _I beg your pardon?"_

 _Simon smiled at her. "Yeah. Look at us, Har. We're both so alike, and as I said we have so much in common, and we really enjoy the time we spend together… but from the first moment I knew we were not made for each other. Sad but true. And… how about you?"_

 _Few seconds later Harry understood what he had said and, with relief, she burst into laughter._

" _Thank God, Simon, because I really didn't know what to do! I thought… I thought you were going to…"_

" _Yeah, I know" he smiled again, but this time with a bit of nostalgia "I know what you thought. And I feel really sorry for myself, well for us both, that it's… just like that. We'd make a great couple and that's a shame we never will."_

 _Harry stood up and took his hand in hers, squeezing it. "You're a great friend, Simon. And I am really glad we met after all these years. And I liked, I like" she corrected herself immediately "all this time together. But I think you're right."_

 _They smiled at each other knowingly._

" _Thing is, Har, I am not a fighter. You are. You are a fighter and you need another fighter by your side."_

 _Harry laughed. "To fight together or to fight against him?"_

" _Both, I think" he winked. "So… everything's fine, girl? Can I leave you here and go home or you need a friendly shoulder to cry on?" suddenly he sounded even more serious. She shook her head._

" _I'm fine, thanks. I just need to have some sleep" she lied, she knew it would take ages to fall asleep._

Of course Harry couldn't be hundred percent sure Simon had really thought what he had said. She suspected he'd rather noticed _something,_ understood more than she had that time, reckoned his chances and decided to give up. And, well, it had proved what a brilliant guy he was. Harry really liked him and hoped he'd find in life what he was looking for. But now she had to focus on _her own life_ and answer _her_ own questions about _her_ feelings, _her_ expectations and about what _she_ was looking for.

* * *

Spikings wasn't surprised one iota when Dempsey communicated him he was going to stay in the UK. He nodded and asked only if Dempsey was sure.

"This won't be easy and simple so I'd like to avoid the worst case scenario I would work my guts out to give you this job and then one day you'd stand on the doorstep and say _So long Chief I've changed my mind and I'm leavin' 'cause Sergeant Makepeace stuck out her tongue at me in the mornin'" -_ Spikings mimicked Dempsey's accent quite well.

Dempsey was about to exclaim at this unfair remark but suddenly he pulled a face. "Boss, you think I may screw that up? I mean, they can reject me?"

"Dempsey, I wouldn't have offered you this job if it'd been only my idea" Spikings looked at him discerningly. "Off the records, the very upstairs suggested me that. As a possibility. _If Leftenant wants to stay we may talk about it, if he wants to go, he may go_. But between us and them there are people who can do much but are not affected by your charm and there's your O'Grady and NYPD, too. And the authorities. Which means we've a lot to do and to think of." He glanced at the calendar on his desk. "I want you here on Thursday, eight a.m. Bring your papers. We will think about the strategy. And now go and find yourself at the other side of the door. I feel the urge to be happy and only you can make me happy by finding the bloody killer."

* * *

"Ok, sandwiches for you guys, minipizzas for Fry, tuna salad for Harry" Dempsey placed the giant plastic bag on Chas' desk. When Harry had gone home for a while to change the clothes as it had seemed they'd spend another long evening at work, he'd offered himself to provide the team with food for the rest of the day which was taken with surprise but no one tried to stop him from this act of commitment. He took one of the sandwiches and sat down just when Harry entered the room.

"How much, Dempsey?" Chas reached for his purse. Dempsey took a receipt form the pocket of his shirt and handed it to his colleague.

"Here. Check it all and leave the money on my desk." Dempsey took the plastic box with tuna salad and, leaning in, put it on Harry's desk while she was pouring tea for herself.

Chas frowned.

"What's that? Red wine, beef, olive, spices… Waitrose?!"

"Give it to me!" Dempsey jumped off his chair like a spring. "I gave you the wrong receipt" he patted his pockets "yeah, that's the one" he pulled the receipt from Chas' hand and handed him another one.

But the horse had already bolted.

"Waitrose?" Chas kept talking despite Dempsey furious glance. "You were at Waitrose? You do shopping at Waitrose?"

"You do shopping at all?" Fry grinned. "You always said you lived on hot dogs all day long!"

"Shut up Fry" Dempsey was aware of the amused look of Harry's who sat down at her desk and, sipping her tea, was listening to the chat with the great interest.

"Wine, beef" Chas repeated himself "hmm, sounds interesting. Will you tell us more, Dempsey?" he winked and smirked.

Harry focused on opening her salad box trying not to reveal a shadow of a smile but inside she was buzzing with laughter. It was a fantastic entertainment to observe Dempsey wriggling on a hook.

"So tell us what are you gonna make?" Chas didn't give up. "I never knew you were such a chef, Dempsey" he seemed to have fun.

"This must be a very important evening" Fry jumped in. "Harry, do you know anything about it maybe?"

All eyes, also Dempsey's, landed on Harry with interest, but she was far too good for that. "Well I'm afraid you flatter my knowledge of his off-duty plans but I can bet his guest must be very brave" she noticed with stony face.

This unfortunately provoked James, a feisty twinkle flashed in his eyes and he was definitely about to say something… but thank God at this very moment the door opened and Spikings entered, with the gloomy face. "Chas, Harry, Dempsey, Fry, my office" he barked and flitted through the office like a small irritated hurricane. Chas followed his suit first, accompanied by Fry, and when Harry rushed towards the boss' door too she felt Dempsey's breath on her neck and heard the words whispered out close to her ear:

"I'm gonna make you pay for this Harry, I promise."

A shiver run down her spine that had nothing in common with his tickling breath. He of course noticed this and chuckled triumphantly. She had to admit he won this round.

* * *

"Dalley's family lodged a complaint after someone had informed them about the photos in newspapers" Spikings chewed his moustache. "Major Danby and I have just had a very nice, friendly chat. He's on our side but I am afraid we owe him a bottle of whisky and a good hairdresser, that's because he had lost half of his hair during the meeting in the embassy this morning and as we know he's not the most haired man in the United Kingdom."

"What problem do these guys have about the stiff, he's looking good" Dempsey took one of the papers off Spikings' desk and looked at the picture "it took me quite ages to choose the best one. And this is even not a post-mortem!"

"Great you still have the fireworks of your intellect and wit in store Dempsey" Spikings was far from joking "I hope it's not pointless to ask you to save it for later. The embassy demanded to call off publishing the picture in the upcoming issues with immediate effect."

"Sir?" Harry raised her brows in disbelief.

"No Makepeace we won't do it!" Spikings snapped. "The pictures will be published on TV and papers so long as we need it." He banged his fist on the desk. "I will even publish them on the radio if it helps, for heaven's sake!"

"That's our Boss, hey!" Dempsey brightened. "Seriously for a while I was afraid you have lost your…" he stopped abruptly when Harry poked him on the rib forcefully.

"Thank you Lieutenant" Spikings said icily. "And - thank you Sergeant, too. Now, was there any response?"

"Yes, a few, boys are checking it up now" Chas said "but of course we may expect some like 'this is my husband who escaped me fifteen years ago', like usual."

"Could be even worse" Fry said "I bet there'd be 'this is my wife who had a sex change operation'. Or 'are you blind, it's Elvis, I always knew his death was a fake!' I'm not joking."

"Yeah we know you aren't" Chas sighed, probably thinking of the numerous weird interactions that he had happened to witness during twenty years of his career in the force. "We really do…"

* * *

At the beginning of the year Dempsey has terminated the rent of his ludicrously big, spacious, elegant and horrendously expensive apartment where he had lived since his arrival to England and moved into a terrace house in South London where he rented an apartment on the ground floor. The house wasn't big but quite cosy and Harry who's been to there several times admitted she quite liked it, on contrary to that one in Chelsea. And so did Dempsey, it seemed. He had told her once, having that apartment was fun for the first year (especially NYPD had paid the rent) but afterwards, it turned out to be too big, too cold and too boring for him. And the usual mess Dempsey used to make around himself - all the clothes, papers, videotapes, mugs and cigars - just looked more natural in the new place.

Driving to that place this evening Harry felt tiny butterflies in her stomach. Not that she was concerned of the possible run of the incoming evening events - she was absolutely certain James would be, as he had said, _of his best behaviour,_ but it was supposed to be something new, different from many evenings they used to spend together _before._

 _Come on Harry,_ she admonished herself, _don't be childish, you're not a sixteen on your first date._

A date. Was it a date, this dinner? It seemed it was. Definitely it was. Shouldn't she have dressed more… smartly? She looked scrutinizingly over her outfit. No, that's OK. Dempsey wouldn't want them both to be dressed in their evening outfits, for goodness sake!

She pulled over and parked the car behind Dempsey's Merc. Suddenly she snorted with laughter remembering the day years ago when she had come to visit him for the very first time (and the last one, as she then had thought), few days after they had been paired up by Spikings, to discuss the difficult subject of their further work together. He had opened the door with only a towel wrapped around his waist and she had been completely cool and distant keeping a poker face during his brash and sexist speech about the role of women in Force and had remained cool even when he took the towel off on his way to the shower. This recollection relaxed her significantly. _You're silly, Harry. Just be yourself. Well, be your more casual self, that's all._

Smiling under her nose, Harry took a small green paper bag off the passenger seat and got out of the car. She took a deep breath ( _really, Harry…_ ) and rushed towards the door.

It flew open quickly but not quickly enough to suspect Dempsey had been lurking behind it waiting for a doorbell. "Welcome Princess" he smiled, was it a glimpse of uncertainty she saw in his eyes?

"Hi" hoping she sounded casually she stepped in and handed him the paper bag. He opened it with the look of someone who thanked heavens he could do something with his hands. He took out a small green plant and raised his eyebrow curiously.

"How nice of ya to give me a cactus. Are you tryin' to tell me sumthin'?" he asked, looking at her suspiciously. She shrugged, smiling.

"I just thought a cactus would have a chance to survive at your place. You know, it doesn't need much care."

"Well that's unfair Makepeace, really. Horatio's been very well all the time."

"Who the hell is Horatio, do you keep fish in a tank, Dempsey? I didn't know."

"Naaaah, no fish. Ya remember the pot plant you brought me once, while we were working at the weird Cathy case? Well, it's still here. Alive and green."

"You've named the pot plant Horatio?" she stifled the laugh.

"Yup. Ya know I am the member of the pro-flower movement, aren't I" he winked "and although Horatio ain't literally a flower I believe he has a right to have a proper name. I think he'll enjoy the company of this little..." he raised the cactus and looked at it attentively "... Persephone, yes, Persephone here." They entered the living room. "A glass of chilled white? Dinner's almost ready."

 _Good God, he was nervous,_ Harry realised with surprise. "That'd be great, thanks. Need help in the kitchen?" she asked.

"Nah, as I said it's almost ready, but I might like the company in the kitchen, unless you prefer to be sitting here? No? OK."

Yes, definitely he was nervous. Somehow the fact helped Harry a bit.

"Smells great" she noticed when they entered the kitchen. Unlike she would have expected, it was clean, with only a few dishes in the sink and the table in the dining corner was set for two. "So what's you are going to treat me with, a _beef_ burger?" she asked raising her eyebrow, putting a stress on the word _beef._

"Now don't you start" he chuckled, pouring her a glass of well chilled wine. "OK, now I can tell ya, it's a beef lasagna." He handed her the glass. "And yes, I made it on my own. One of the three things I can cook, only three, but when I cook them they're absolutely delicious" He was prowling around the kitchen, talking non-stop, shuffling the stuff on the countertop, checking something. "Mum always said I should be able to cook something, this is a kinda life insurance, and this lasagna is our family dish" suddenly he stopped in his tracks and sighed desperately looking at her. "Oh for goodness sake, come here." He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"I was just wondering how to mute you" she murmured with relief leaning her cheek against his.

"Came to any ideas?"

"Umm, I guess so" she encircled his neck with her arms.

Their lips touched slightly.

"I'm so glad you're here Harry" he murmured against her mouth running his fingers through her hair.

"So am I."

He kissed the corner of her mouth, probing it slightly with his tongue and it caused a delicious tremor in her body. His lips moved to her jaw and then, to this sensitive spot right behind her left ear. Harry closed her eyes. _Oh Jesus._ She had no idea it could be _that_ sensitive. Even though she had been kissed there tens of times in her life.

"Ya like it, Tiger?"

"I like what?..." but instinctively she tilted her head allowing him better access.

"You know what. Tell me, ya like it?" he kissed her there again.

"Uh huh." She bit her lip. This feeling was unbelievable. How could just a kiss have such an effect on her?...

"Right. I thought so" he went on to kiss her down her neck and she felt him smiling against her skin. She felt getting weak at her knees. There was no urge, no impatience in his kissing, just a slow, sweet, tender caress but it turned her to jelly. Good God, how was he doing it to her?

She clenched her fingers in his hair as he reached another sensitive spot, the one that joined her neck and her shoulder, and she felt his fingers stroking her back. She gasped involuntarily knowing if he needed a proof now he had it.

At the first moment she didn't recognize a strange sound she suddenly heard, after a second later she realized the oven timer went off. _Saved by a bell again_ she thought and then her stomach grumbled which made James rock with laughter, still being nuzzling her neck. It must have been nerves, she wasn't hungry at all?! His mouth went upwards the same way back and he whispered to her ear "Apparently dinner is ready Princess" and looking in her eyes he added "and seems you need it, that's how our bodies betray us" - why did she have a feeling he wasn't talking about hunger for food?

She briefly wondered whether her eyes were as dark and her pupils dilated as his.

"Well then, it better be good" she said nonchalantly. He winked.

"You mean it better be worth the break? I bet it is. And I bet it will be delicious, _too_ " and he opened the oven door. She couldn't deny it, - at these double-edged love-word games he was far better than she.


	23. Chapter 23

_Hi guys. Glad to see the next chapter_ _finally? If so please let me know by your R &Rs. I am feeling highly motivated seeing a feedback after hours and hours spent on writing! :)_

 _This chapter is dedicated to **Debbie** , **Krato** , **NightOwl22** and **Jave2** :) Thank you **DD** for your boundless support :)_

* * *

 **Chapter 23**

"You're sure you don't wanna more lasagna, Harry? Think you may have left a piece or two…"

Without looking at him, she poked him in the rib. "Don't confabulate James. I have _eaten_ a piece… well, two. And it was really good but thank you, I am full."

They sat in the lounge, on the very comfortable Dempsey's couch. Dempsey, feeling completely at ease, put his feet on the coffee table, wrapping his arm around Harry's waist. Harry, with her feet on the couch, leaned her back on his chest and her head on his shoulder, trying to get as relaxed as he was. As a matter of fact she was quite close to that. The atmosphere during the dinner had been lovely, they had talked, laughed and smiled at each other, and Harry had managed to get rid of her inner tension almost totally. Still she wasn't hundred percent able to get used to this new level of intimacy between them. But every day, every hour it was getting better and better. She had come to the point where she hadn't thought about the idea of _them_ with bewilderment or confusion. Now she rather saw it as a shape of things to come.

Dempsey rested his cheek on her hair, half closing his eyes and breathing her scent in. Boy, it felt so good just to sit like that, surprisingly good and he didn't want anything more at this very moment. It was sweet and innocent although he felt the warm flesh under the thin fabric of her blouse under his hand and was really tempted to slid it under and touch her… properly. But it didn't seem most important now. Why to rush things, inevitable was inevitable and waiting was so stunningly attractive. _Geez, Jim, you feel like a teenager in love for a very first time,_ he thought and smiled to himself. What a feeling to die for.

As if reading his thoughts, Harry moved her hand a bit, meeting his. Their fingers intertwined. "Lovely songs" she said dreamily, sipping wine. "Isn't it Carole King? You don't look like a fan of this kind of music."

"Oh really? What kind of music do I look like a fan of then?"

"Well something more rough. I don't know."

"And what's your kind of music? T'is one of the things we never talked of, huh?"

Harry thought a bit, then shrugged. "I don't know. Bryan Ferry, may be."

"What?" she felt his chest reverberating with a quiet laughter. "Gimme a break Makepeace, don't tell me you like this… this…"

"This _who_?"

"Such a swell."

"A _swell_? Are we talking about a man or his music, Dempsey? His music's posh, elegant and cool. But I must say Bryan Ferry himself isn't _a swell_. He's a charming guy. I met him some two years ago at a party. He was really nice to me."

"Yeah I bet he was. He's married, ya know it?"

"Yes, I know, but I am surprised you do. Since when you're keen on lives of the celebrities?" she giggled. "And, so what? He just danced with me at the party, not asked for my hand in marriage" she noticed impishly.

"Yeah, to my luck" he murmured and as she held her breath he added quickly: "I'm gonna dance with you on Saturday".

"Are you? Won't it be a task too hard for you?"

"Whadda heck do you mean?"

"Well we have two Saturday parties ahead of us and you can't dance."

"I can! I danced with ya before, remember?"

"I do, that's why I say you can't" he heard laughter in her voice and knew she was joking but couldn't let her get away with that.

"You have no idea what a gorgeous dancer I am. Not yet."

"So what was that, those funny little skips of Johnny Lupino you presented in front of me that day?"

"That's what you just said: Johnny Lupino danced Johnny Lupino's style" he pointed out triumphantly. "You will regret your unfair words once we're on the dancefloor, I'm tellin' ya." Quickly he took the wine glass out of her hand. "What the hell, you're gonna regret them right now" out of the blue he tickled her ribs.

"Stop it!" she shrieked, jumping up. "Don't you dare! All right I believe you, you are the new Fred Astaire…" she was giggling with laughter "...and Ginger Rogers too… please stop it!" Wriggling and laughing, she tried to free herself from his merciless grip but with no success.

"Or what?" nuzzling her neck and laughing he continued the torture.

"Or I'm going home" she gasped.

"No you're not."

"You're so bloody sure of it!" Finally she escaped and sat on the edge of the couch, looking at him slyly, her incredibly blue eyes laughing and shining.

He could hardly believe it was Harry; usually so calm and steady, now she was beaming with joy.

"Yeah I am…" he said slowly, holding her gaze. "I am…"

Suddenly they both fell silent, their eyes fixed on one another. And then he reached out his hand, cupping her face and stroking his thumb over her cheek. He skimmed lightly the corner of her mouth, and then he moved his finger over the curve of her lower lip. Still looking him straight in the eye she opened her mouth a bit tenderly taking the tip of his finger. He looked at her with darkened eyes. _God._

"Harry..." he stopped and sighed. "Well I think you know what I have to do now?"

"I think I do" she said quietly.

He reached for her,wrapped her in his arms again and pulled her very close to him. He pushed her against the back of the sofa and leaned over her, seeking her mouth. To his pleasure, she reacted immediately, responding to a kiss that was warm, tender but not soft - only with her it was possible. Her arms encircled his neck.

Their lips met together seeking for the most pleasure and they both knew already how to find it. They were damn good at it together. A perfect kissing match, Harry though weakly, running her fingers through his thick hair. He'd been at a hairdresser, she realized suddenly and the thought amused her a bit and made her glad, she liked his hair shorter. He, on the other hand, had been always so proud of his great hair, she knew it… her thoughts flew away as their kiss deepened, became more impatient. A red warning light flashed in her head. This was getting dangerous. But it felt so wonderful. And Harry felt torn between her body urges and her presence of mind. While the body whispered louder and louder _yes, yes,_ her mind spoke quietly _No, not yet, not yet. You're not ready._ And she knew she should listen to the latter.

And she was aware of the fact he left to her to decide whether to take the next step or not and was very grateful for it.

Reluctantly and very tenderly he broke the kiss and only millimetres away he murmured against her lips: "I like kissing you, Harry Makepeace."

"I like when you're kissing me" was her answer.

On a whim, she moved her lips down to his neck, touching it lightly as if a feather touching his skin. Had she wanted to cool them down a bit, this wasn't the wisest idea and she realised it immediately hearing his little stifled moan or just a gasp.

"When I was a teenager I had a huge problem with kissing" she said quickly, resting her chin on his shoulder and closing her eyes, enjoying just being enveloped in his embrace.

"Well I guess everyone had at the beginning" he mumbled "but don't worry, you've improved your skills ever since."

She snorted with laughter. "That's not what I mean."

"So?"

"Well you know… When you watch a kissing couple in a movie or on TV, it always ends with the kiss. They're never, ever shown what they're doing after the kiss has ended."

"Aren't they?" he grinned. "I could tell ya what they're doing afterwards."

"Not in the movies proper for teenagers" she continued with amusement, grinning too. "So I always wondered how I should behave then, feeling so shy and confused, after a kiss? Should I say something, or should I joke, or smile at him, while I was so shy I just wasn't able to look him in the eye, and so on and so on."

"But I think you've learnt how to deal with this problem?" he was playing with her hair.

"Yes, somehow I must have, as you see" they smiled at each other. He kissed her nose and reached out for her glass he had put down on the table.

"More wine, Princess?"

"Yes please, but that'll be all for tonight. Tough day tomorrow."

"Yeah" he muttered "and my meetin' with Boss."

"Are you nervous, James? I thought you'd be just discussing the further steps?"

"Yeah, but that's important too. I think I'd be fine… Spikings, as he said, wouldn't have offered me the job if it'd been pointless. But anyway… I need to make a good impression on him first."

"Isn't it a bit too late for that?" she laughed.

"Whadda you think Harry if I tell him _Boss, don't stand in the way of two people's happiness_ , will it be a smart move?" he grinned but observed her carefully noticing the slight pink flush coming up to her cheeks.

"Speaking of which…" she paused.

"Of happiness?" he leaned forward to kiss her again but she put her finger on his lips.

"Not exactly. Listen to me, it's important."

"Do we need to talk about important things tonight?" he tried to catch her finger in his teeth but failed.

"Yes we do" she said firmly. "Now, do you think we should let Spikings know… about us?"

He looked at her surprised. "D'ya think we need to? I mean, he's a wise guy, he'd notice somethin' sooner or later. After all it was he who…"

"Who what?"

He cleared his throat with a shade of confusion. "Well he suggested that, ummm, you might… ummmm have a crush on me."

"Dempsey, what the hell are you talking about?" she disentangled from his embrace and looked at him amazed. "How could Spikings have suggested something like that?"

He sighed but his eyes told her he had fun. "Well… remember this lousy time you quit from force?"

"How could I forget that? Go on."

"Well I might have been slightly, just slightly unnerved because of that fact and perhaps… not so nice to people as I usually am."

"Aha. That means you shouted at people, you were rude, mean, surly and nasty?"

"Might've been. I don't remember" seeing her arch look he took her in his arms again and continued. "So one evenin' Boss had enough with my, errr, mild sorrow, and invited me for a pint to Bramcote's. And then… well, in the subtlest possible way he said that… perhaps you had left because you cared for me not in a way partners at work care for each other and you couldn't deal with it."

Harry moaned desperately covering her eyes. "Spikings said so?!"

"Yep, you know, he ain't the Superintendent for his pretty face, is he? I mean he's not stupid and he must have at least considered this scenario when he'd paired us up."

Harry thought with confusion the fact her boss had known much more about her feelings than she had that time was not easy to accept. But she decided to think about it later.

She let her head fall back against his shoulder. "But the question remains open. You may be right he's a wise man but he's our boss as well. He needs to play by the rules. And the rules say…"

"I want to keep on workin' with you Harry. Can't be paired up with Fry and can't imagine you with Tony or Dave. Out of the question. It ain't work."

"It could be fatal to us all, yes" she agreed. "Now at least I can keep my eye on you desperately trying to discourage you from your stupid ideas. Working with anyone else I'd worry about you and couldn't focus properly on the job."

"So."

"So let's keep it hidden, at least for now. I don't feel good about this, it's unfair to Spikings, but I can't see any other way. Besides…"

"Besides?"

"I always keep my private life to myself. I don't like the idea of boys commenting on it behind my back. And I bet my month's salary they would. And I can imagine these comments which makes me even more uncomfortable."

"Yeah I know what you mean" he paused for a moment. "Ya know what? There were times I'd have died to let them know."

"But not anymore?"

"No."

"That bodes well."

"Again, I know whatcha mean."

She sipped the rest of her wine. "You think…" she paused "you think it will work?"

He knew at once she didn't mean them keeping a low profile.

"One of the things you never know" he said softly "but I am hopin' for the best. OK I'm… scared, yeah. We're so different, Harry, I know it. I am like an ordinary mug of coffee, you are like a fine cup of tea. And you know I'm not good at relationships, you must be patient with me…" he paused again, looking at her suspiciously. "What are you laughing at?"

She nuzzled his chest. "And what do you think, in view of my past, am I good at relationships?" she asked both sadly and slyly.

"Oooook, well at least you've tried several times" he smiled "but you know, I think we've been already in a relationship in a way, haven't we. Friends for so long. That's good. And you know… I think you are very lucky when you date your best friend." He pulled her closer, nuzzling her hair. She closed her eyes.

 _Well hopefully you're gonna be also very lucky when you're in love with your best friend,_ she thought.

But she still had no courage to say it out loud.

* * *

It was a bit tough to focus on the job.

He arrived at the office before eight which made Spikings' eyebrows raised in a kind of surprise and a smile twitching under his moustache; apparently Dempsey had taken the problem very seriously. While reviewing Dempsey's documents and discussing the possible way of acting in the nearest future James has caught a glimpse of the slender figure of Harry's a bit blurred through the frosted glass of Spikings' office door. So she was there, dressed in something of a light green, he saw her moving behind the door, and he felt the warm feeling that had been in his heart for some time suddenly grew bigger. He just couldn't stop thinking of her! _My girl._

"Dempsey?" Spikings' voice has brought him down to the earth, the middle of the office. "You heard me? You seem like you were in another world. London calling, Leftenant."

"Sure Boss" Dempsey tried to look purely innocent "I was jus' listenin' to what you said."

"Were you" Spikings didn't look convinced. "So, all fixed. I think we can meet the Commissioner on Monday. Think very carefully of what you're gonna tell him. I am sure he would seize the opportunity to show you who the Boss Almighty here is. So you better keep your usual charm at bay. I am serious, Dempsey. Just a friendly advice."

"I hear ya, Boss."

* * *

It was surprisingly easy to focus on the job.

Harry couldn't fall asleep for quite a long time last night, still thinking about that evening so warm and tender, and titillating. She had woken in small hours and immediately she couldn't supress a smile. _James._

Full of positive energy she went to the factory on Thursday morning, wearing a nice mint blouse in which, as she had just found out, her eyes took a shade of the green-blue color of sea.

Spikings' office door was closed and it seemed both Chief and Dempsey were in there. Harry was hoping the meeting was going well. She remembered the nervous words of Dempsey; he really bothered about his future. No wonder, now the price was high for both of them. It was about _their_ future.

 _Let's suppose, just suppose, he wouldn't be permitted to stay in the UK._ What was the alternative? Would she go to the States with him? Notwithstanding her deep feelings, she couldn't imagine it. How could she live in a country she didn't know and - paradoxically - didn't like, far from her friends, her father and her work?... Besides, she felt James wouldn't feel comfortable about the idea. He knew England was her place and he wouldn't dare to make her unhappy by making her decide to leave it. But on the other hand hopefully he wouldn't dare to make her unhappy by leaving _her_.

Chas walked towards her desk and handed her a sheaf of papers. "The calls from people who answered to our ad" he explained. "Still thirty to go. And I've stuck post-its to those we should focus on."

"Thanks" Harry sighed. Chas sat down on the edge of her desk. "A very annoying case, isn't it" he observed impassively. His face was, as always, serious and calm. "Still going round in circles. I have called this friend of yours, McPherson. He gave a very detailed testimony but again, like for the other guests at the party, there's nothing to get our teeth into."

"The most frustrating case ever" Harry agreed. "Making me feel totally unprofessional."

"Any plans for the weekend?" he changed the topic unexpectedly. "Mona and I fancy to meet up, on Saturday evening. You and Dempsey, if he has time."

"Oh, sorry Chas, but not this time. I, errrr, am going to a party. A long lost friend has just returned from overseas, you know."

"Pity" he smiled at her and returned to his own desk.

It was about nine when the door of the inner office flew open and Dempsey and Spikings appeared on the doorstep. Spikings looked cool as always, Dempsey's eyes found Harry's immediately and he raised discreetly his hand, connecting the thumb and index finger into a circle. _OK._ She was pretty curious about the details of their meeting but before he could fill her in Spikings' voice boomed out for everyone to hear: "All right team, come here sweeties, let me know how brilliant you have been since yesterday!"

They sat around the briefing table and Chas cleared his throat. "So far we've received one hundred twenty three responses to the advertisement, Guv. Forty eight remain after we have sifted them and of these forty eight so far we've checked eighteen. The reports are here. We still need to talk to thirty people. Five per head."

"Leavin' the arithmetics aside" Dempsey grunted "anythin' interesting about these eighteen?"

Chas shrugged.

"Yes and no. Most of guys claim they know the victim by sight, or they just saw him here and there. Normal stuff. Anyway, needs to be checked. But we have two interesting testimonies given by guys that said they had met him in person" Chas peeked in his notebook. "Saskia Brennan, a waitress in Covent Garden, and Philipp Schumann, a musician in the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra."

"Great, then let's start with these two" Harry handed out for the note Chas held. "I'll go and talk to Mr Schumann."

"Are you really? I'm goin' with ya" Dempsey threw her a reproachful look. "Or perhaps you want me to go and see this Brennan girl alone, huh?" he winked.

"As a matter of fact yes, Dempsey, it would save the time" Spikings said sharply. "You don't have to go _everywhere_ in tandem."

"Oh yes we do" Dempsey stood up, taking the other note from Chas' hands. "We're team and _it_ saves time in fact. I am talking, Harry is observing. Or the other way round." He took his jacket off the chair. "Come on Sergeant, job's waiting" he hastened her and rushed towards the door. Harry rolled her eyes and followed his suit.

Spikings rubbed his short hair and sighed heavily.

* * *

" _We're team and it saves time"_ on their way to the car Harry parroted Dempsey with a mean smile. _"I am talking, Harry is observing. What a smart Lieutenant I am, really_!"

He gave her impish smile. "Don't be so smart Makepeace or…"

"Or?"

"Or I won't take you to a movie and dinner tonight."

She snorted. "You can _take_ a dog for a walk, Dempsey. As for me, you can _ask_ me to go at most and wait breathlessly for my answer" she bestowed a dazzling smile on him and headed for her car. For a second he stopped, looking after her, then he shook his head with appreciation and amusement and followed her.


	24. Chapter 24

_Happy New Year Everyone!_

* * *

 **Chapter 24**

"What d'ya mean he's on sick leave?" Dempsey angrily raised his voice. A grey-haired lady shrugged.

"It means Mr Schumann had been taken ill, _sir_ , and called this morning to let us know he wouldn't come to work" she said sarcastically. "I am afraid I can find no words that describe sick leave better."

"I bet she doesn't like Americans" Dempsey sulked when they left the premises of the London Philharmonic Orchestra "did'ya hear the way she said _sir_ to me? Like it was an insult!"

Harry sighed with a false sympathy, fishing for the car key in her bag. "I guess that's what she meant. Perhaps because you had shouted at her when she informed you about the guy's absence." She took the RT out of the car window and radioed in Fry telling him to go and interrogate the guy at his sickbed. "It'll save time, and we can visit this Miss Brennan. And I think I'd fancy a cup of tea."

"Got a better idea…" he paused. "Let's go and find a place and let's kiss a bit."

"What?!" she goggled at him incredulously.

"Ah, don't tell me you don't like the idea Harry, 'cause judging by the way you're blushin'..." he grinned at her but his look was quite serious. Yes she had blushed but at a thought of yesterday evening, hot snogging and snuggling on his couch.

However she looked back and started seeking something very carefully. "I didn't notice when you were dropped on your head Dempsey, where was it, on the stairs?"

"Oh c'mon Harry, just a few minutes of kissin' and snugglin' right there round the corner. I need it like you need your cuppa tea!"

"Here" she put the keys in his hand "you drive. I prefer you keep your hands busy at the wheel. It's work, remember? Go on, move!"

* * *

Saskia Brennan looked so nice they both liked her immediately. Tall, slim, with shortly cut coppery hair and green eyes, she radiated the vitality and joy of life.

"Yo' cops?" she asked with a low, nicely vibrating voice, serving them tea and strong fragrant coffee and sitting down at their table. "Don't look like. Mo' like showbusiness. Yo both look gorgeous."

Harry restrained herself from a smile at the sight of Dempsey's face. _Showbusiness_!

But James _did_ look... gorgeous. He always had. Even at their rocky start, despite the dislike she had initially felt for him, she couldn't deny he was attractive and sexy. The dislike didn't mean blindness and Harry as a real woman was perfectly able to recognize a real man and their sex-appeal... knowing of course it wouldn't guarantee anything more.

So he'd always been sexy and handsome but now it felt different somehow. Was it the result of her feelings for him that she saw him different now or he just felt himself now more confident perhaps which resulted in his different attitude?

"I met this guy" Saskia said without further ado when they all got their beverages. "I had this, let's say dubious privilege about two years ago" she raised her green vivid eyes on Harry. "Just arrived to London, with a friend" Saskia continued "we're from Limerick, yo know, decided to find a better life here, and we found a job in a pub in Soho. First weekend we got the paycheque and went to celebrate. The guy joined us at our table. Was nice, must say. A Yank. But then, fancy that, he offered us a job in a movie. Said they needed some extras. I'm not stupid, I know what usually _a job in a movie_ means so I wasn't in but Alice, my friend, was naive and decided to try on. Geeez, for two days I tried to discourage her from this idea. I nearly screamed my head off but she of course knew better. Off she went, Monday evenin'. I waited for her till midnight, then she came back in tears, disheveled, makeup ruined. Yes of course, it was a porn movie and she was to be an extra, true, but in an orgy scene, full action. How she had managed to escape she didn't know. I wanted to go to a police station but Alice begged me not to, she just wanted to forget tis crap, she was terrified at the thought of a revenge and she feared she could be sent back to Ireland. Now, tis was a mistake, I should have gone to the station, now I know it. But I didn't. An' we never met the guy again" Saskia paused and took a sip of tea.

"And where's this Alice now?" Dempsey asked her. She smiled.

"She works at a barber shop in Leeds. Had enough of London after this adventure. Gonna get married next month. London felt too dangerous to her."

* * *

"I need to change" Harry looked down with disgust at her mint blouse covered with brown splashes and spots here and there, the result of a head-on collision with a nervous hurrying waitress handling a tray with cups of coffee. "Looks awful."

"Nah, gimme a break, it's hardly visible. We need to get back to the factory. Don'tcha have the extra clothes in your locker?"

"I usually have but I've taken them for laundry on Tuesday" she sighed. "I won't parade in it all day long, no way. Oh come on, it would take another thirty minutes, James, please. I need to change, I am feeling awful, I am feeling filthy!"

He couldn't restrain himself from laughter. "Well all right, since you've used the magic word. Cannot recall when the last time you said _please_ to me was." And he thought to himself he'd love to hear it in quite different circumstances.

She threw him a murderous glance. "I always say _please, thank you, sorry._ I am the polite part of the team" she pretended not to have seen him making a face. "Let's go then. I promise it won't take long."

"No problem, babe." That hat syndrome again. If she asked him to climb up a street lantern and fetch her a light bulb would he do it? Possibly he would. _Don't be stupid boy of course you wouldn't._ He just needs to be a bit more decisive, when they're at her place he'll tell her to hurry and will wait for her in the car tapping his watch meaningfully, it should help.

* * *

Dempsey took a glass off the table in Harry's lounge and walked towards the window, sipping water slowly. He looked out. Nice place, this Camberwell Grove. Green, safe and quiet, he had liked it at first sight when he'd arrived to Harry's place for the very first time years ago. He smiled lazily remembering Harry's ridiculous outfit when she had answered the door then. To say she had looked weird was the understatement of the year…

He could hear her light steps upstairs as she was pacing in the bedroom, certainly looking for a blouse to change or collecting some other stuff together… His imagination suggested to him the vision of Harry _without_ a blouse… He felt a wave of heat in his body, rubbed his cheek with his free hand, then put the glass back down, on the window sill. Definitely he should have stayed in the car as he had planned. The house at Camberwell Grove wasn't a safe place anymore. Not for him. Not for them. He looked around. What the hell is she doing up there, why does it take so much time for women to change… or to use a bathroom by the way… He made a step forward, wanted to go upstairs and hurry her a bit but stopped in his track, Jesus, no way, he won't go up there. He thought to sit down on the couch. No, he'd rather stay here at the window. He turned again towards the window and focused on observing a couple of sparrows bathing in a pool near her car. One of the sparrows was stroking the other one with his beak, tilting its stupid head and spreading its wings suggestively. Oh for goodness sake!...

The quick steps were heard on the stairs and in no time Harry entered the lounge. "Sorry, I think it took a bit too much time", she said apologetically but he didn't turn round. She glanced at the portable RT sitting on the table. "No news from the factory, I assume?" She joined him at the window.

"No. Nuthin' so far." He looked sideways at her and bit his lower lip; she wore a light blue blouse with short sleeves and with lace around the décolletage revealing her collarbones.

"Ready?..."

 _James._ The whole room seemed to emanate with his presence. She felt light-headed. _Awwww._

To break the tension that had appeared in the air between them she looked at her watch. "We should get going. Thank you for your patient waiting" and on a whim, she lifted herself up a bit and kissed briefly his cheek. But somehow, her lips lingered on his cheek longer. She felt him tense.

Realising the trouble, Harry turned round quickly but immediately she felt two strong hands on her shoulders that mildly but firmly kept her in place. She held her breath. She felt strange, as if the air got thicker or as if she saw through water. Feeling him right behind her, she bowed her head in a gesture of anticipation, her heart throbbing wildly, and didn't wait long to feel a kiss on her hair. And then, on the nape of her neck which made her shiver. His warm strong mouth moved along her shoulder, his fingers softly sliding the fabric of her blouse aside. A sudden desire possessed her and she didn't know whether she herself turned round to face him or it was he who spun her round; they clung to each other in no time and their mouths collided fiercely and hungrily, parting and welcoming each other. They cradled each other in their arms as tightly as they could losing themselves in a fervent kiss. They let the whole world out of their sight holding, squeezing, kissing wildly and finally they just fell onto the couch, James lying half beside Harry, half on top of her, fingers of his left hand running through her hair, these of his right hand intertwining with hers, tightening, twisting together in a paroxysm of desire.

She craved so much the feel of him. Without breaking the kiss, impatiently she tugged, pulled his shirt out of his trouser band and slid her hands under the thin fabric. The touch of his warm bare skin, the muscular flesh made her completely insane, she moaned in rapture moving her hands up his back, pulling him desperately closer to her, feeling his arousal, but barely aware of it, lost in her own frenzy.

Dempsey felt intoxicated, all his senses were focused on her, her touch, her smell, her taste. He let her stroke his bare back for a long while before his mouth travelled down her neck and further down, exploring the new. Slowly he unbuttoned the first button of her blouse, marking the newly discovered territory with a small kiss. Another button. A kiss. A third one; at this spot his hot mouth covered both her delicate skin and the edge of a delicate lace of her silky bra; Harry held her breath and instinctively clenched her fingers in his hair but he just kept on moving south parting the fabric at every button and every little possessing kiss, revealing a hot flesh.

She gave half a gasp, half a sultry laughter as if coaxing him for more, much more when he kissed her belly right above her navel. The next kiss was nearly at the waistband of her jeans. She squeezed her lids shut… and precisely at this very second their own paradise got blown up by a crackling sound coming from the RT still sitting on the table… and a strong, low, well known voice:

"Control to Charlie Five, over."

They both froze. Harry fell from the stars immediately, Dempsey needed a bit more time to realize the game was over.

"Don't answer it" he mumbled desperately against her skin. "Harry please…"

"You know I have to" she got out from under his body sitting up and reached out for the RT. He groaned in disbelief, covering his face with his hands, trying to pull himself together. "Charlie Five to control, over?" she responded with a trembling voice. "Chas?"

"Seems Fry has got something" Chas said "he's waiting for you in Islington. This guy Schumann claims Dalley was his neighbour there."

"OK, thanks, over and out."

Dempsey was… livid. Nonsensically, childishly, ridiculously livid. From the place she was sitting on she saw his clenched jaw. Avoiding his gaze she quickly stood up, smoothed her hair and buttoned back her blouse. "Shall we go?" she suggested blankly heading for the door.

He followed her, tucking his shirt back in his trousers with such furious gesture she would expect the sound of the fabric being torn. She found it stupidly and irrationally accusing and it annoyed her.

"What's your problem?! You bloody well know I _had_ to answer that call!" she snapped furiously. He of course hit back.

"Yeah of course you had to answer that call. It would be the end of the world if just for a moment you got into sumthin' different from bloody work!"

She looked at him as though he was a complete idiot.

"I thought for quite a long time we had got into something completely different from work?"

He didn't answer but leaving the house right after her he slammed the door shut a bit too forcefully than he should have.

Dempsey began to cool down soon after they've left for Islington; the rational part of his brain slowly started working properly again. He was still angry but now he knew he was angry at their bad luck, not at Harry. Let's suppose she wouldn't have answered the call… and then what? Chas wouldn't have given up on trying to contact them, he'd have called and called… on the RT, on the phone… perhaps he'd have sent someone to Harry's place… and?... Dempsey's mouth twitched in an attempt to supress the grin. Yeah, Harry had to answer this call.

But anyway he was still furious about the bad timing. Geez! For the first time he held her in his arms so intimately, and she was so hot and eager and willing for more… and they were interrupted so mercilessly. Bloody job.

However, he realised suddenly, when he had happened to think in the past of how it might be… Harry in his arms... - the light of the midday, rush and just a couch in the lounge definitely hadn't come up in his fantasies.

He looked at her sideways, she was driving focused on the road, a fierce expression on her face. She seemed to be turning into The Ice Queen again so when they were nearly at the place and stopped at traffic lights he reached out and took her palm in his.

"I am sorry babe" he growled with his best loving voice he was able to produce. "I'm a moron and you were right." Fortunately she didn't go of his hand. "It's just…" he sighed "genuinely frustrating. But you _did_ have to answer the call."

"Not that I wanted to" she answered nonchalantly after a second, keeping her eyes on the lights and blushing wonderfully. And quickly added "and I am sorry I yelled at you. It's not easy to keep emotion at bay." She took her hand away to change the gear.

But now the silence between them was different, friendly and full of a mutual satisfaction for they had experienced a new level of their intimacy and it felt so… promising. When Harry parked the car on the street he turned to her, took her hand again, turned it and slowly kissed the spot on the wrist where a vein was pulsing quickly.

"Harry, look at me."

When she did he nearly groaned, her eyes shining and beaming with emotions. "May I kiss you before we get out of this car?" he asked sheepishly.

"No."

"And why not?"

"Because Fry and the other guy are twenty feet from us, right behind your back."

"Oh. Then I'll save it for later although I think later I might be offerin' you a few more intere…"

"Out" she commanded him leaning over his lap to open the door on his side so that he felt the warmth and touch of her body. He obeyed, grinning slyly. They both knew well the time of sweet and innocent courtship had come to an end.

* * *

"My name's Philipp Schumann, call me Phil" a skinny black dressed young man with black messed hair greeted them jovially "nice to meet you. This guy you've been looking for, he has a flat here in my building. I used to see him now and then."

"Sure it was him?" Dempsey asked rather unfriendly, he didn't liked the way this evidently hung-over guy was looking at Makepeace. _Sick leave,_ he thought to himself derisively, _I bet he's spent last night on girls and booze._

"Man, totally sure" Schumann nodded. "The caretaker here will confirm if you don't believe my eyes" he winked at Harry which made Dempsey really angry. Ignoring the young musician he turned to Fry: "Have ya checked with the caretaker already Fry?"

"Yes" Fry straightened up to his full height "when I came over here to talk to Philipp… I mean Mr Schumann we met Mr Ravajani and he confirmed the identity of the tenant of the flat at the third floor. It's our man Dempsey."

"Right then let's have a look at his love nest, if it's his love nest" Harry suggested, shouldering her bag.

Mr Ravajani awaited them at the main entrance, an old short man with bright eyes and calm, respectful attitude. He confirmed again the person presented to him on a picture is no one else than MrPeter Carraclough… at least that's how he had introduced himself two years ago when he had rent this apartment. The caretaker escorted them upstairs to the door numbered 34 and handed keys to Harry. Phillipp, apparently disappointed his role ended here, returned to his home at 31 where, as James thought, he sat down with his ears being pricked up.

Makepeace unlocked the door and for a moment they stood, she, Dempsey, Fry and the impassive Mr Ravajani, on the doorstep quietly. Would this place finally reveal any secrets of the crime?

"Ladies first" Dempsey made an inviting gesture at Harry. Fry followed them. The caretaker stayed at the door.

They entered the spacious living room with another door leading to a bedroom. Harry peeked inside and saw at a big bed with disheveled pillows and sheets, with an empty wine bottle lying on the carpet; apparently Dalley had hired no cleaner here, she noted. Aside the bed, there was only a small bedside table on which Harry spotted a few oblong subjects of different sizes and colours… Harry winced. No wonder he hadn't hired a cleaner, she thought.

She returned to the living room: a big, comfortable couch, a small table, a desk at which Dempsey was just flipping the papers sitting on it, and a cabinet in the corner of the room. Fry was looking down over Dempsey's shoulder but quickly moved backwards as James threw him a menacing look and rushed to the small kitchen at the other side of the room. Harry opened the door of the cabinet and raised her eyebrows seeing a row of binders and manila files filling one of the shelves. She took some of them out and handed them to the desk. Dempsey raised his head and cast her a glance, "what have you got there Sergeant?"

"We'll see" she opened the first file and almost immediately felt sick. It was full of big colour photos. The first one on the top of the others showed a naked girl sitting in a luscious pose on the bed, her legs widely open, one knee lifted, showing everything that was to be shown, and handling a something that probably was an eggplant or a courgette, pointing at the strategic point between her legs. The other pictures she could see at the moment didn't differ too much from the first one. A kind of monotony was apparent, especially all the legs wide open and buttocks stuck up in the air.

Dempsey took a careful look and whistled loudly. Harry avoided his gaze, suddenly embarrassed, while he took the file out of her hands and started quickly going over the photos. Fry, alarmed by his whistle, came back to them both and now stood right behind them, his eyes popping. "Sweet Je…" he murmured but cut off in mid-sentence. He leaned in over Harry's shoulder. "Wait-wait, what is it? Is it…? Is she…?" he took a photo out of James' hand and started examining it at different angles.

"Fry" Harry moaned desperately. Dempsey snorted with amusement. Fry turned red, nearly threw the picture aside as though it flamed up but still stared at the other ones Dempsey was browsing.

Embarrassed in first place looking at all this crap in Dempsey's presence Harry thought it would be much more difficult for her if they watched classy tasteful erotic pictures together… a delightful shiver run down her spine thrillingly. Then she quickly switched to the professional mood, focusing on what she was supposed to be doing, took another file and opened it. And she gasped out loud, looking at the picture on top. She stared at it with widened eyes, her mouth slightly opened. It hasn't escaped Dempsey's notice. He looked at her, then at the picture, and at her again.

"Harry?"

She looked at him briefly and returned her gaze to the picture. He removed it out of her hand. A dark-haired girl in a very short lace gown, smiling lasciviously, bare breasted, sitting in the armchair in a tantalizing pose and touching herself with something big and strange, in a shape of a big cigar, wrapped with a kind of a thread.

"Harry? Do you know who she is?" he asked sharply.

She blinked several times and looked at him, shocked. "Yeah, I know who she is. I know her pretty well, Dempsey. Her name is Emily Ladbroke. The younger daughter of Lady Stephanie Ladbroke. Who is the sister of Lady Grace Atherton."


	25. Chapter 25

_It's been a quite a while since I published the previous chapter. I hope you'll like this one._

* * *

 **Chapter 25**

" _Who am I, babe?"_

" _Daddy, you're Daddy."_

" _And you're…?"_

" _Daddy's girl."_

" _And what do you want from Daddy, babe?"_

The images on the screen shook and blurred as if a recording person moved too quickly. Spikings took the remote and pushed the stop button. He looked at people sitting around the table. Serious faces, no stupid smirking or grinning. Dempsey, Makepeace, Dave, Fry and Chas. Harry with a cool face, Dempsey frowning, a cigar stub in the corner of his mouth, Dave blushing with embarrassment, Fry, for a change, a bit of pale green, and Chas looking decidedly grumpy. Spikings cleared his throat.

"I think we've seen enough" he began slowly, weighing his words. "This and - this" he tapped the photos scattered over the desk with his pen. His eyes wandered to a plastic bag aside, containing all the erotic gadgets that had been collected from Dalley's secret flat.

Mercifully, Spikings didn't want them to watch all the details of these pathetic porno movies for dummies, but it was obvious someone would have to. _And it'll be me_ , Chas thought unwillingly. He was pretty sure this would be his task this afternoon. Great.

"OK, any comments on what we just got to know?" Spikings looked around.

Dempsey moved impatiently on his chair and pulled the stub out of his mouth. "For me it's obvious Boss, the picture of this lady gal, that speaks for itself. That's a proof."

"A proof of what?" Spikings raised his eyebrows. "A proof a silly girl had her pornographic pictures taken, that's all. It's regrettable but it's not a crime."

"But it tells us that, beyond any doubt, the family's involved" Dempsey pointed the stub at Spikings, looked at it and quickly put it down in the ashtray. "Can't deny it, Boss."

"In fact I _could_ deny it Dempsey, 'cause it's not that obvious like you wish it was. But I agree it's very probable the family is involved."

"Or a boyfriend" Harry noticed quietly. "Or it's not like it looks like." She kept silent for a while, trying to find proper words. "What I mean is, Sir, if someone of the family is involved why were they so stupid to murder the guy at their property during a party given? It could be done anywhere, at any time."

"Impulse?" Dempsey prompted.

"Might be" she agreed but it was clear her mind was working intensively.

"Anyway Guv, what I think is we _are_ getting back to the Athertons, including this lady Stephanie" Chas said. "She was not questioned in the case."

"And why not?" Dempsey asked, irritated. Chas shrugged.

"Not necessary so far. She lives near Cheltenham, was not invited to the party, we were not aware about her daughter's relationship to Dalley. Now of course it's different. I'll contact the local police."

"Wait Chas" Spikings said, "so far we're gonna pay a visit to Lady Atherton, Dempsey, Harry and me. And then we'll see. But definitely we need just some information about the Ladbrokes, Dave, collect what's possible. And you, my lad" he smiled at Chas "have a closer look at these love stories on videotapes."

* * *

It was quiet in the car.

They had taken Spikings' Ford Granada and Spikings had ordered Dempsey to drive it. Dempsey didn't object: Spikings sat in the back seat covering himself with papers he began to review and didn't show any interest to his subordinates in the front seats. His subordinates felt very content with that. They didn't talk, didn't even look at each other but the waves of warm vibrations flowing between them were so intensive Harry was surprised Spikings hadn't made any remark about the unusually high temperature in the car on this rather tepid day.

Harry sat comfortably, her mind taken with thoughts about this afternoon. Still slightly unnerved, she was able to see things in a proper way though. But in fact she didn't spare a single _thought_ of it; it was rather how she _felt_ about it. The tension, the fever that had exploded in her body out of the sudden… well let's rather say in a bad time. She really had wanted to control herself as the moment had been really unfavourable then. But she'd failed.

She still felt the trail of his kisses on her skin under the blouse, as though it was burning, especially that one spot where his lips had covered both her skin and the lace of her bra… God, it all had happened so fast and totally beyond control. Harry was really taken aback when thinking about that. She hadn't expected such strong feelings and emotions and she had never, ever expected she'd succumb to him so quickly, after only a few days of their newly founded, blossoming relationship! She had been never too quick about the stuff, she rather liked things slow, the third date rules never appealed to her, she liked savouring and cherishing the courtship and slow seduction… and so she did now for sure but… it seemed it didn't work with James! The courtship was nice and delightful but when it came to senses…

 _Soon._ It was obvious for her _it_ would be rather sooner than later… Harry felt a delicious tingling in her lower belly. In fact it felt a bit scary. How will _it_ be like since she got completely mad only at the touch of his hands and lips, losing her control, wanting more regardless of the circumstances?

She took a quick look at Dempsey's hands resting on the wheel. Strong wrists, well formed nice fingers. Harry had always secretly fancied his hands; she had always paid attention to men's hands and voices; for both Dempsey far exceeded the score. Her friends appreciated different features… Kenna always looked at men's beautifully shaped calves, Mary was fond of their chests while Angela…

Harry bit her lower lip to stifle a giggle. Of course Angela _had_ to be the one who assessed men's crotch in the first place!

Hmmm.

No, she won't look. No.

She did.

To her embarrassment again she felt a sweet flow going through her body and what was worse her nipples hardened unexpectedly. _Oh my God. Stop it Harry, get yourself a grip,_ she admonished herself in panic. _You're at work._ Quickly she shifted her look but anyway his thighs in blue jeans looked also very... tempting. She yanked her notebook out of her bag, opened it and started browsing through it, hoping to look very busy and lost in her thoughts.

Dempsey, what was rather obvious, also has been thinking about them, he just couldn't stop it. Her arms wrapped around him, her soft willing lips, her shy _and_ demanding touch. The glorious moment his lips had touched the lace of her lingerie… Jeez!... He had wanted to take her bra off but instinctively had decided to draw out the moment of the first intimate encounter… _Bloody RT._

He took a deep breath and cast a sideways look at her, very discreetly. With huge satisfaction he caught the glimpse of her gaze scrutinizing him unobtrusively. So easy to guess what was on her mind. Wonderful. Her sudden interest on her notes amused him and he just couldn't stop himself and asked her with the most innocent voice possible, however giving her clue he must have noticed something:

"Found anything interesting, Makepeace?"

* * *

Lady Grace was definitely not pleased to see the three policemen on her doorstep.

 _I don't blame her,_ Harry thought. It was nearly six o'clock and whatever Lady Grace had planned for the evening must have had nothing in common with receiving the unwelcome visitors from the force.

"Lady Harriet."

"Sergeant Makepeace, if you please, Lady Atherton" Harry corrected her politely but firmly.

"Ah yes, I am sorry" Lady Atherton smiled but the smile was cool and a bit dismissive. She was nothing like the warm, delighted and hospitable charming woman at the party four weeks ago. Leading the way into the back of the house she added "I must say I am really impressed by the way of the career you _happened_ to choose. Not easy and sometimes dangerous, I think?" she continued. "And how does Lord Winfield cope with these important decisions of yours?"

Harry looked at her. "I am sorry Lady Atherton but I am not here to talk about my life and about how my father feels about the path of my career. You may remember my Governor Chief Superintendent Spikings and my partner Lieutenant Dempsey, you've met before." Both Spikings and Dempsey nodded reluctantly on Lady Atherton and Spikings took the helm of the conversation.

"Shall we sit somewhere quiet and talk, Lady Atherton?"

Dempsey who had been about to cut off Lady Grace speech about Harry's life choices (' _if only you knew, you old aristocratic bag_ ') now calmed down; apparently Harry didn't need his protection.

Spikings started with exactly the same questions he had asked four weeks ago, at the night of the murder. Lady Atherton answered patiently most of the time, but finally she had enough.

"Excuse me sir…" she paused for a while "would you mind explaining me the reason for all this? As far as I remember your people have asked me about all this during the night the poor Mr Dalley has been killed. I assume it all has been noted and filed in the police records. Why are you repeating it now? Did your people lose all the essential documents?"

Spikings smiled sweetly. For those who knew him this was a kind of a smile that would easily turn into a scary grimace within a split second. But Lady Atherton didn't know Spikings well.

"Oh, it's all on purpose" he said kindly. Harry and Dempsey shared a brief meaningful glance; they had recognized this smile and this kind of voice. Spikings didn't explain the purpose, though. "Now, could you tell me a few words about your sister, Lady Stephanie Ladbroke?"

Had he planned to take her aback with this sudden change of the subject he succeeded at hundred percent. Lady Atherton looked at him completely startled and astounded. Spikings waited with the same seemingly kind and good natured expression on his face.

Lady Atherton cleared her throat and brushed her forehead with her left hand in a gesture of fatigue. "Chief Spikings…" she started "I must say I am confused. I don't understand. First, all these questions again. Now, out of thin air, you're asking me about my sister. Seriously sir, if I knew why it is important for you…?" her voice got slightly squeaky.

"Answer my question, Lady Grace" Spikings demanded, totally unaffected by her words.

Lady Atherton sighed with anger. "My sister Stephanie lives in Cotswolds. She's a widow, two children, David and Emily…"

"Please go on" Spikings prompted.

"Well, David's thirty and Emily is twenty two… Oh and she is in Australia now. She's getting married at Christmas… a very noble, old, wealthy Australian family… And we have David's wedding just tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Spikings looked curiously. "In Cotswolds?"

"No, here in London. At bride's home. My sister arrived yesterday, with David. They're staying at Ritz."

"How about Emily?"

"She's not coming."

"And why is that?"

"Tickets are expensive and Emily left England only three months ago."

Dempsey looked around the elegant room full of old furniture, at a thick carpet, long silver curtains. The big floor-to-ceiling windows looked out across wide green lawns. Dempsey thought about his home, a small house in Brooklyn, with a few square feet garden in the back, three stuffy bedrooms and cosy but small kitchen full of laughter and delicious smell of cookies.

Lady Atherton seemed to sense his disapproval.

"Life is tough these days" she was still addressing Spikings "we cannot afford to spend money left and right. Maintaining the property gets more and more difficult, Lady Har… _Sergeant Makepeace_ would say something about it too" she trailed off but Sergeant Makepeace didn't pick up the topic, making notes and keeping the stony face.

"So Emily's fiance of the old wealthy Australian family wouldn't like to attend the wedding and meet his soon-to-be family?" Spikings couldn't restrain himself from a slightly ironic comment. Lady Grace's cheeks flushed, she pursed her lips. "This is not my business Chief Superintendent, I don't ask my sister's family about such sensitive issues. If you want to know why it is so you must ask her."

"Definitely we will, Lady Grace. And now if you don't mind I'd like to ask you a few more questions before we get going."

* * *

It started raining on their way back but they hardly noticed that discussing the visit at the Athertons. The heated talk was suddenly interrupted by Chas who radioed the important message for Spikings: he was expected in the Foreign Office premises.

Dempsey swore under his nose, he really was not in the mood to be driving the Boss around the city. Spending the evening in the factory, in the stuffy office was bad enough, he could think of better ideas… But fortunately Spikings had his own plans.

"Pull over, Dempsey" he demanded, and as Dempsey did he fell silent for the moment. "Not bad, you two. I think we can pay a visit to the good Lady Ladbroke tomorrow and take her by surprise. We might suppose Lady Grace has no idea about her niece's antics and I wonder if Lady Ladbroke does." He looked out of the window, the rain pouring hard. "I'll drive to the Foreign Office alone. Go back to the factory and discuss the fruits of the day with guys. You may go."

"Hey Boss" Dempsey looked at him incredulously "it's rainin' cats and dogs, why wouldn't I drive us to the office first and then you may go alone? Are you serious?"

Spikings shrugged. "You can walk, it's only about ten minutes from here. Are you made of sugar or what? Besides, there's an umbrella in the boot, you can take it." And after a second of silence, he barked. "Well go on and fetch it! I'm not gonna move to the driver's seat soaking wet!"

Dempsey jumped up abruptly. "You must be kid…"

"Dempsey" Harry cut in brightly, defusing the incoming storm looking at him with the bright blue eyes innocently wide open "Dempsey, could you bring us the umbrella from the boot? We're running out of time and we have work to do in the office so…"

Dempsey shrugged. "All right, Princess, you say jump, I say how high…" He opened the car door and got out, right into the pouring rain.

Makepeace couldn't suppress a wide happy grin. Spikings looked at her suspiciously.

* * *

"England!" Dempsey snorted as Spikings drove off in the dry warm Ford, nonchalantly waving them goodbye. He put up the collar of his summer jacket. They started walking towards the factory.

"Yeah, yeah, seems it never rains in summer in the Big Apple" Harry slipped her hand under his forearm. The black umbrella was really huge but it was nice to find an excuse to cuddle up a bit. She looked up at him. "So what's bothering you?"

He didn't answer at once. "The weather" he said finally, smiling at her. "I don't know how you put up with it."

"No, but what's _really_ bothering you?"

After another pause he spoke. "Well not _bothering_ … that's ridiculous but I am thinkin' of the lady's words, about how life's sooo tough to her" he mimicked the grimaces of Lady Atherton. "And this huge fancy house an' everythin', whole nine yards."

She instinctively knew what he worried about and gave him a comfy squeeze. "Fancy houses, kids in private schools, Italian ham for breakfast and when you ask they say _somehow we manage to make the ends meet_ , that's what you mean?"

"Yup."

"Well, what can I say. Not all of _us_ think likewise."

"I know" he passed the umbrella from his right to his left hand and put his arm around her shoulders. For a split second she tensed, they were so close to the SI-10 premises… but it was a gesture Dempsey had done thousand times before and at last she had given up protests, first of all she had known it was his style, besides… she secretly had got to like it. "Wonder how she'd feel living at your place for a month or two?"

"She wouldn't live a minute like that" she answered straight. "But I've chosen this kind of life, James. And I feel quite happy living the life that is more like my mother's than my father's. Which of course you may already know." And, to let him know she had understood what his real fears and concerns were, she added, "don't worry. I don't miss fox hunting, debutante balls or a four poster bed at Winfield Hall. It's bloody difficult to dust it, believe me."

He didn't answer but when they walked just a few steps further he lowered the umbrella and kissed her lazily and tenderly as if they were sitting in front of the warm living room fireplace with plenty of time ahead of them. The black umbrella was big enough to give them a comfy shield to prevent them from any curious looks if anyone happened to come outside, although in such case it would be rather obvious for anyone what they were doing. Somehow they didn't care though.

* * *

It was nearly midnight Harry felt she was completely wiped out.

The day has been ridiculously long and weird, full of emotions and unexpected twists of events. They'd spent the last hours discussing the new facts with the team, then Spikings returned, now they were working on reports and information Chas had obtained from the Cheltenham police. Harry was focused on her job totally but finally she was overpowered by acute headache that attacked her temples. She rubbed them with her fingers and closed her eyes for a while but it didn't help. Harry thought dreamily about a freshly laundered, crispy, ironed sheets in her bedroom.

"Are you fine Princess?" Dempsey, watchful as usual, looked at her. "Got enough, huh? So do I. Boss!" he shouted towards the ajar door of the inner office "have mercy on us and let us go home. We cannot read a single word anymore, let alone understand it!"

Spikings appeared on the doorstep. He looked briefly at his wristwatch. "All right" he chewed the words for a moment "you may go. I wanna see you back here seven o'clock sharp. Make the most of it to recover 'cause it's going to be a long day again."

Saturday in the office, Dempsey thought grimly. The last thing on his wishlist. It seemed the planned barbecue was out of the question now. Perhaps they will be lucky enough to make it to Angie's evening party… He stifled the sigh. He didn't want to go to Angie's party. Oh hell he didn't.

"OK Princess, ready?" he asked, jumping off the chair and grabbing the car keys from the desk.

* * *

"Incidentally, where's your car?" Harry asked, having sat in the car comfortably while Dempsey started the engine and left the car park. Pain was still throbbing in her temples but at least she wasn't exposed to the cold white office lights anymore.

"I'm your chauffeur today" he grinned "we don't need two cars". He stepped on the gas although he couldn't really speed up due to the rain. "I'll pick ya up at six thirty in the mornin', fine for ya?" he added looking at her sideways.

Harry looked at her watch, then at him: his tired face, messed hair, five o'clock shadow, and after a second of hesitation she made a decision. "Well" she said slowly and a bit awkwardly, "it's nearly half past twelve. Why don't you stay at my place, I mean if you like? This would give you another hour of sleep, you know. It takes twenty minutes from my place to yours and back, so."

He couldn't suppress a grin and she noticed that. "What I mean is we really need a rest" she added quickly, suspecting what might be on his mind "so every minute counts, doesn't it."

He reached out for her hand and slowly kissed her knuckles. "Honey, you can be sure I wouldn't lay a finger on you tonight although I wish I could. You look awful."

"Well thank you very much" she said sarcastically, blushing at his meaningful words and feeling warm at the word _honey._ "I always knew good appearance means much to you."

He laughed out loud. "That's not what I mean. You are deadly tired, aren't ya? And you were right, we need a decent sleep. Definitely. And you look cute when blushing" he added slyly "even with these shadows under your eyes and messed hair. If you were a man you'd have a dark stubble too at this time of the night" he scrubbed his chin.

She peeked into the rear mirror. "I am not having messed hair!"

"I always knew good appearance means much to you, Harry."

* * *

"Headache?" James asked with sympathy, looking at Harry with concern. She sat on the edge of her sofa, her shoes off, massaging her temples. The piercing ache was unbearable. "I think a bit of whisky might help."

"Whisky?" she moaned. "You're kidding. It would only make things much worse."

"Not the Doctor James terrific medicine" he took two glasses from the cabinet in the corner of the room, a bottle of whisky, and brandy. She looked at him in horror. "Trust me". He poured very small amount of whisky and literally a few drops of brandy to both glasses and handed one to her. "Drink it quickly. That's one sip. Come on, girl."

Harry obeyed and swallowed the liquid, wincing at first. But to her amazement the pain vanished almost immediately. "See?" he smiled at her. "Sudden impact. Always works." He finished his drink. She laid her head on the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. Good heavens, she was here with him, in her lounge, on the same sofa earlier this day they had… and all she wanted to do was sleep. She felt him sat down beside her and he took her in his arms. She decided his chest was a better place to put her head on. "Just a minute please" she murmured, it was a bliss.

"I have a better idea".

"Have you?"

Without warning, he gently released from her and lowered her down onto the sofa. Surprised, she opened her eyes when she felt a cushion under her cheek. Before she could say a word he took his sneakers off and lay behind her back, spooning her. The sofa was wide enough to feel comfortable.

"Dempsey."

"Shhh babe" he smiled and reached out his hand to turn off the light. "Now we can sleep" he wrapped her waist with his hand and nuzzled her hair. He sought for her hand, held it and placed it together with his, resting on her waist, their fingers locked together.

She thought it wasn't such a good idea, she should have removed her residual makeup, put something more comfortable on and in general, he was tired too, they both did need a decent sleep, in wide and comfortable beds, separately, to be really fresh in the morning… but suddenly the idea of him sleeping downstairs and her sleeping upstairs seemed totally unnatural for her; besides, it felt wonderful to lie here in his arms, feel his breath in her hair…

"I do love you, James Dempsey" she thought, or she murmured it out loud? She didn't know. Slowly, slowly, happy and safe in his arms and cradled by their strength and warmth, she gradually drifted into a quiet, deep sleep.


	26. Chapter 26

_Hi again. And again, such a long break between the chapters… Thank you for your patience and support._

 _During my holiday in the UK I went to London to see "The Best Man" and met with Glynis at the stage door afterwards! :) We talked - she was absolutely lovely, warm and wonderful. Something to remember forever :)_

 _I have included a very tiny bit of Glynis' and Michael's real life story in this chapter. Who's going to find this? :-)_

 _Anyway, enjoy. I hope you'll like it. And I believe a few good reviews would help me to write the next chapter properly… :)_

* * *

 **Chapter 26**

James jerked involuntary in his sleep and opened his eyes. Staring at the ceiling, for a moment he was slightly disorientated, having no idea where he was and with whom… as he definitely wasn't alone. After a second he remembered and a smile slowly appeared on his face.

They must have stirred on the sofa during the night seeking each other's warmth and touch as now he was on his back and Harry was snuggling into him, with her head on his shoulder, arm across his chest, hand on his other shoulder, leg flipped over his. Her attitude indicated absolute, total trust and devotedness and Dempsey just couldn't believe his luck.

He lay quietly, not daring to wake her, relishing the feeling. His arms enveloped her and, interesting, he kept his right hand on her bare small back, under the blouse… how had he got there in his sleep? _You'll always find a way, Jim,_ he grinned to himself. He looked sideways at the old clock on the wall: a quarter to six. The sound of pouring rain could be heard through the ajar window. Another rainy day. _England,_ he thought. Wonderful England. Oh how he loved England now.

Nevertheless, lying there with her body cuddled up to his own began to take its toll. Dempsey felt his pulse accelerating, his blood warming up. Oh Jesus, he wished he could wake her with kisses, rip their yesterday clothes off, kiss her exposed naked body while she would respond in the same eager frantic way… and finally they would make love on this sofa finishing off what they had started on the same sofa the previous day…

But she slept so soundly and innocently, he didn't want to take these last minutes of sleep away from her. So he just lay there, breathing deeply to collect himself and just enjoying the moment.

A big car, a van perhaps drove past the house making quite a noise and Harry stirred moving her hand along his shoulder and touching his neck, her fingers warm. He imagined her lips at this spot instead and sighed. At the same moment Harry stirred again and he felt her body tense. She was waking up.

"Mornin' Tiger, slept well?" he murmured with a low voice. "I reckon you did."

She cleared her throat. "Time's it?" she asked, he heard a kind of awkwardness in her voice.

"Ten to six" he brushed his hand over her back smoothly.

To say Harry was baffled would be the understatement of the month. She felt pretty confounded after she realized she had nearly... wrapped herself around him in her sleep. And to be honest she liked it… the way she had cuddled up to him, how he held her in his arms, the strong heart beating under her cheek… Suddenly she thought it would be nice waking like that every morning… well perhaps not on the sofa and not in the clothes… But it didn't help to make the whole thing any less confusing.

"So we have to get up" she tried to sound casually.

"Mmmm" she felt his mouth caressing her temple and they didn't make a move. His fingers were lazily drawing circles on her skin.

"You know what? Wish we could stay here."

"Yes, but we can't" she murmured, her discomfort raising.

"Indeed we can't" he agreed with amusement, moving his hand up her back.

She briskly disentangled from his embrace and swung her legs down on to the floor. "Ugh" she winced feeling her muscles asleep. "Would you make coffee please?" she said, avoiding his look. Surprised, he reached out his hand to catch hers but she was beyond his reach already, having stood up quickly she made for the door. He raised his eyebrows and was about to make a cutting remark when he heard her painful cry from the hall where a big mirror was hanging on the wall: "Oh my God I look like a panda!"

He swallowed the disappointment at her strange behaviour that had seemed a kind of offence to him.

"That's a sexy thing!" he shouted towards the hall.

"What, yesterday's makeup?"

"Yes, that's what I am talking about. You're beautiful anyway" he added quietly but he was sure she had heard it. _Eh princess, what's wrong with you,_ he thought, though.

* * *

Of course good old Chas was already in the office when they came in. He greeted them from the coffee corner - relaxed, smelling with a good aftershave, bright eyes. Dempsey patted him on the shoulder. "Have you slept at all Chas?"

"Yes, on the couch in Guv's office" Chas handed a mug of coffee to Harry. "Bit too short for me but I got used to it through all these years. Spent too many nights there. I am afraid one day Mona will have enough and divorce me".

"You're not married though, aren't ya?"

"No" Chas said matter-of-factly "but that's the way it feels when you're in a long term relationship, believe me. Anyway. I hope you had a better night than I did."

"Well my bed was quite comfortable" Dempsey grinned catching Harry's glare. The fact they had arrived together and Dempsey's remark may have made Chas suspicious. Why was this bloody Yank all mouth?

The telex started tapping and Chas went over to check the incoming news. Dempsey leaned against the wall sipping his coffee; Harry walked past him to wash her mug. "Could you stop grinning like a monkey?" she hissed over her shoulder looking at him. "In a second he'd think we spent the night together!"

"But we did spend the night together" he noticed cheerfully.

"Be quiet!" she hissed again. "Or, you know, what don't you go outside, up to the roof and shout out to the four corners of the world where you spent this night and with whom?"

"Easy girl" he frowned, her reaction had annoyed him. He continued angrily, lowering his voice "I think you're overreacting a bit. Nobody understood but you and me. And you don't have to punish me for only you know what…" but he was interrupted as Spikings had just stormed into the office.

"Good morning bright eyes" he shouted from the doorway. "Let's gather together, my eagles and hawks, and let's have a little chat about our duties on this lovely day…"

* * *

"Not very impressive", Dempsey said nonchalantly, looking around the hotel lobby and at the reception desk, empty at the moment, where a phone was ringing. "Wonder how much per night."

"Don't plan a weekend here, that's all I can say" Harry mumbled. "What?" she asked startled seeing his suddenly curious look. "I mean you'd live on toast with jam, no coffee, for the rest of the month" she felt a kind of guilty at her morning cool and distant attitude and tried to sound nicely and amicable.

"Coffee's free in the factory" he grinned.

"Coffee's not free anywhere, Dempsey, Her Majesty pays for your coffee" Spikings joined the conversation "and as I remember what you both did at the Park Lane Hotel three years ago I'd rather not see you spending the weekend at the Ritz."

"Excuse me Sir, when you say _you_ I hope you mean _him_?" Harry's voice was like a velvet glass. Dempsey shrugged with amusement, "I bet at least coffee here's better than in the factory" and he looked again towards the reception desk still empty and the ringing phone. "Hey! Anybody gonna answer the phone?" he boomed out loudly to Harry's horror. All heads in the lobby suddenly turned towards them, glaring at them in disgust.

"Dempsey!" Harry hissed in panic, poking him on the rib. "It's Ritz, not McDonald's!"

"A five-star-hotel with nobody to answer a phone, gimme a break, Makepeace…" if looks could kill he would have been dead already. Spikings took a deep breath, he was about to reprimand him but he noticed a tall dark-haired man walking towards them. "Chief Superintendent Spikings, I assume?" he greeted the Boss with a kind smile. "My name's Rafferty. Lady Ladbroke is awaiting you. Please follow me."

* * *

Lady Ladbroke didn't resemble her sister at all, she rather looked like her mother. Short and plump, with silver curled hair, beady eyes and flushed cheeks, it made her look like a character from an Agatha Christie novel.

"What can I do for you" she asked politely when they already had exchanged attentions "I am sorry but I don't have much time. My son's getting married today. You should have come yesterday, Mr Spike."

Spikings kept a poker face. "It's Superintendent Spikings, Madam" he corrected her.

"Superintendent Spikings, yes" she giggled. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you" Spikings' angel face could make Harry laugh, she and Dempsey could recognize the small signs of irritation appearing in his eyes but Lady Stephanie was of course absolutely unaware of them.

"So what can I do for you, Superintendent?"

Spikings cleared his throat again and briefly informed Lady Stephanie about the interrogation. She listened to him nodding and smiling all the time with interest and a kind of concern. _She's a weirdo,_ James thought, he caught the amused look of Harry's who apparently thought the same.

"Yes of course my sister told me about all these facts" she said when he finished "it was really horrible, a man killed in her garden. A foreigner. So improper! Poor Grace. But to be honest I am not sure why you are telling _me_ this story. I wasn't there the night he was killed." She looked uncertainly at Harry; she must have been asking herself about the role of these younger officers sitting at the table - one of whom was the daughter of dear Lord Frederick Winfield! - and saying nothing.

"Did you know, Lady Ladbroke, your daughter was in… a close relationship with the victim?" this question was like a loud shot in a small meeting room.

Lady Stephanie batted her eyes several times, confused. "What do you mean, in a close relationship?" she didn't sound any different, she still was like an old lady gossiping with friends, waiting for a juicy news about a scandal in the neighbourhood. "My daughter knew this man?"

Spikings took out an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket. He brought out the photo of naked Emily Ladbroke sitting in a provocative pose in the armchair in Dalley's flat. "Is it your daughter?" he asked calmly.

Slowly her face turned scarlet, she reverted her eyes and stared at the window. "Yes… yes, it is my daughter. Emily." She breathed deeply, then cleared her throat. "This is, hmmm, very awkward for me, Superintendent" and, to their surprise, she giggled suddenly. "These kids!" she shook her head. "Always make us worry about their stupid ideas. Where did you find this photo? Were there more of them? This is… this is really…" she paused.

"We found it in his apartment" Harry joined the conversation "do I take it you didn't know anything about this man and your daughter?"

Lady Stephanie shrugged. "My daughter is, after all, a grown-up woman. She never tells me anything about her… life, or her love life. Of course she is a silly girl, what can I say, this picture's the proof. I gave up on trying to understand my daughter, Lady Harriet, long time ago. She was born when I was over forty, that's a big age difference. When I was young life was simple. School, horses, hunting, flirting with gentlemen. Now, this world has turned upside down, we can only watch our kids and there is nothing we can do to stop them from doing silly things. Emily has made a lot of mistakes, I suppose. But she's young. She is starting a new life now, far from here. Soon she will be ashamed of what she did… perhaps she is already."

Harry felt a bit shocked. Lady Ladbroke may have been an emancipated woman, why not, but this carelessness about her own daughter's behaviour, before the eyes of completely strange people, seemed rather unnatural.

"Your daughter is in Australia now, right?" Spikings asked. "And she will get married there soon. Is her soon-to-be family so indulgent too? I mean if they knew they would gloss over her… youthful indiscretion?"

She straightened up and looked him in the eye. "Mr Spikings, since I didn't know about it, how would they? I hope Emily will be wise enough not to tell her future husband anything. She has a chance to start a new life" she repeated her own words "a great chance. Hopefully she'll take it."

And to their amazement, she giggled again.

* * *

"Good god" Dempsey moaned quietly when they met in the SI-10 corridor at the vending machine when Spikings finally had told Harry to go home "is he bloody going to let me go too? What does he need me for? It's after five. I am afraid we're gonna be late at the party, princess."

Harry sighed, shrugging. "What can we do about it."

He looked at her. "Why don't you go home, get ready and go and wait for me at my place? You'd drive past it on your way to Angie's, right? Here" he fished around in his pocket and handed her the keys. "It'll save time. Let's meet there, I am hoping to be there in an hour or hour and a half".

Taking the keys from his hand he looked in his eyes, hers shining. "Sounds good, Leftenant. I promise not to look into the drawers of your writing desk in search of your diaries."

"I am not stupid to keep my diaries in my writing desk drawers" attracted by these impossible blue eyes he leaned forward to kiss her but he was stopped by Spikings' roar telling him to get back into his office.

* * *

Harry came back home and took a long hot shower. She stood under cascades of pouring water with her eyes closed, for quite a long time. The pictures of the last few days were running in her head. Everything went so quickly and was so intensive. James, work, dinner, office, the couch in the living room, waking up together… She smiled. Yes, everything was happening very fast, but not too fast. Apparently, that was how it was meant to be. Weird and exciting… She felt a wave of arousal flowing over her body. _Wish he was here, waiting for me in the bedroom._ She sighed deeply, moving her hand down her body...

 _What the hell am I doing?_

She turned on the cold water tap. There was no time for… for a shower frenzy. _At least not when she was alone here._

 _Harriet, for the love of God!..._

It took her quite a time to choose the outfit for the evening. As Angela said, it was just one of these small casual country home parties – that's how she would call it. Harry decided on a red 'a girl from the neighbourhood' dress which was, however, quite sexy – well all depends on a neighbourhood, doesn't it? And a nice creamy, silk, discrete lingerie… yes. That looked good. Two pieces of silky fabric, not very bold, but… pretty interesting. Harry's mind drifted back to the more intimate things again.

 _For goodness sake, it's just an all-night party! Hardly possible there would be time and place to… to show this stuff to him! Not in this noisy house full of thumping music, booze and people everywhere laughing out loud all the time!_

Yes, that's how Angie's small casual country home parties were like, actually.

Half an hour later Harry left the house, giving the one last look at herself in the mirror. Yes, a very good result. "Party time!" she murmured to herself and run down the stairs to her car.

* * *

Harry looked at her wristwatch. Seven thirty. Where the hell was he? He should have been here already.

She took a glass of sparkling water and, tempted, she stood on the doorstep of his bedroom. She remembered when she had been here before… the chat with Simone about James, interrupted at the most interesting spot. Harry smiled. Yes, Simone had been right about her and Dempsey, she had seen it in the proper light.

At eight she called the office but nobody answered; of course it was Saturday evening and everyone was long gone… finally enjoying the weekend while she was sitting here, totally dumb and not knowing what was happening to Dempsey right now.

At eight thirty she called Angela to apologize but nobody took the call either. No wonder, they probably didn't hear the phone ring - talking, laughing, drinking, dancing to the loud music. Harry waited until the answer device started and let the brief regretfulmessage they'd be late or might not come at all because their duties still kept them at work. She started pacing along the living room back and forth, her concerns raising. What happened to James? Where was he?

When finally at nearly nine o'clock Dempsey's Merc appeared on the street and parked up with the screech of brakes Harry felt extremely relieved. Glad, she rushed to the front door Dempsey was just opening and they bumped into one another.

"Wow" she couldn't hold the exclamation.

Dempsey looked as if a tank had run over him. His hair was messed, his trousers covered with stains of mud, the shirt's sleeve was torn and his face was dirty with trails of mud and… was it blood too? He just briefly looked at her face, the blue eyes shining with what he took as anger and started quickly, raising both hands in a defending gesture: "Harry I am sorry, I am so sorry! I know it's bloody late, I know you're mad..."

"James."

"I knew this day couldn't be normal, I just knew. I dropped Spikings to the ministry and was about to go back when I saw this jerk…"

"James."

"So I had to chase him, ya know, and then we had this little accident" he continued nervously and without a break.

"James, I am not mad!"

He put his hands down and looked at her in disbelief. "You ain't?"

"No! I just worried. You didn't come back, I didn't know what happened to you. What was it? Why didn't you call?"

He sighed deeply and wiped his face with the dirty hand.

"I just saw a jerk robbing an old lady on a street. So I had to, ya know. Intervene…"

"Of course."

"And yet you're angry."

"I am serious. I would have intervened too. You know that"

"I ran after him, we had a fight in a crescent, that's why I'm lookin' like that… the bastard managed to escape so I shot. In the air!" he added quickly seeing her face. "That scared him, he slipped and fell down and I just caught him when the police patrol arrived. Bang on time."

"And I think I can guess what came next…"

"Yeah they took us both to a station! I showed them my shield but it didn't help! They said I could call so I called Chas to help me to get out of there. But it took some more time and I was locked up in a cell with this jerk who made fun of me."

Harry thought it was extremely hard not to laugh but it was out of the question.

"See? It's not the first time being a knight in shining armour gets you in trouble" she reached out her hand and touched his cheek.

CRACK!

The electricity that flew between them was almost visible.

Blue eyes, hazel eyes, stared deeply into each other's.

This time it was Dempsey who reached out his hand and brushed Harry's cheek, stopping at the corner of her mouth. He leaned forward, his eyes on hers, his lips parted…

And then he looked at his palm, then at his shirt, trousers…

"Oops" he murmured, confused, moving away "that ain't looking good. I guess I need a shower and a change" he brushed a lump of mud off his sleeve. He peeked quickly in the mirror. "Ouch! Definitely. Give me ten minutes Tiger… I'll be back and we… can go…" and surprisingly quickly he disappeared in his bedroom, where the door to the bathroom was, leaving Harry alone.

She smiled and went back to the living room. Standing by the window and leaning her hands on the window sill she looked at the empty street, with unseeing eyes.

 _Blow the party off, James._

 _I wanna stay here with you…_

The sound of water running in the shower could be heard now from behind the door.

* * *

Water was warm and Dempsey relaxed, slaking the tension off his shoulders. Gee, what a weird day! What a stupid adventure, he wasted so much time at the station while Harry waited here for him, what a bummer!...

In general, it wasn't their luckiest day. First, they missed the barbecue. And now they're so late for the bloody party. When would they arrive there? Everybody would be drunk, loud, music, people… Shit. He didn't want to go. He thought about Harry waiting in the living room, so beautiful in the red dress, so wonderful, so sexy… She was there…

 _Screw the party, Harry. Let's stay here._

But it was Angie's party, Harry hasn't seen her best friends for more than half a year, she missed her, she's been looking forward to meeting her again and talked about the reunion for days.

 _OK what Harry wants, Harry gets_ , he decided. After all, he liked these guys and they always had had fun together. It's going to be a nice night.

And then all his mind flew away in a second as out of the sudden two bare arms wrapped around his waist from behind, he felt a body pressing against his own and a voice whispered seductively to his ear:

"Fancy a company, James?..."


	27. Chapter 27

_With special thanks to Debbie and Madzior, for your endless help and support. It would be much more difficult without you!_

* * *

 **Chapter 27**

The moment she put her hands around his wet body she knew she had made the right decision. On her way to the bathroom she still hadn't been sure but now she just knew it was going to be OK. It couldn't be wrong.

She would bet there was a grin on his face and she saw she was right when he turned around and took her in his arms, pulling her close and holding her tight. Looking deeply in her eyes, he cupped her chin, and sought her mouth. He was kissing her now, tenderly and sensually parting her lips with his tongue. She closed her eyes, savouring the emotions, drinking the sensations in. The feel of his hot hard body against hers, his hands moving slowly along, exploring the places they'd never been before, his mouth kissing hers slowly and passionately in the streams of warm water, all these details melted in her mind into something unbelievable, impossible to comprehend. So she just clung all the tighter to him. Full body contact. Oh God, they'd barely started and it felt so wonderful already.

She let out a stifled moan that made him stop kissing her and she felt him smile against her lips. Still holding her tight, he pulled back looking at her face with roguish, laughing eyes. The water droplets shone on his eyelashes that - what a cute thing! - grew straight out instead of up! How come she'd never noticed that before? His obvious joy was so infectious that Harry, feeling completely and utterly at ease, mirrored his smile and put her arm around his neck, nuzzling it and kissing the tempting spot under his ear, touching and stroking his chest with the other hand. She heard him gasp and then he pulled back again a bit more, enough to be able to scrutinize her body for the first time.

"You're so beautiful, babe" she heard his hoarse voice and feeling vulnerable under his burning gaze she glanced down. She found it quite embarrassing for the obvious reason so she looked up quickly again. She expected a funny comment from him but nothing came out of his mouth.

To Dempsey it was like all his birthdays and Christmases had come at once. She had come to him, with trust and devotion, showing him what she wanted, giving herself to him. Could he dream of anything better?

He moved his hands up her back, delicately touching her spine with each fingertip, still looking at her with burning eyes. That look of his had always made her weak at knees. His hands moved to her shoulders, her collar bones, then slowly went down to her breasts. She held her breath. For the first time he was touching her like that, gently but decisively. Tilting his head a bit he waited for her reaction. Holding his gaze she lifted her hands and covered his. Only for a while because the next his mouth followed his hands.

She suppressed the moan but was unable hold back a loud gasp. Impulsively she ran her fingers through his hair keeping his mouth and tongue in place. God, she felt like she was flying five feet above the floor. _Oh my God, James. Oh my God._

When he broke the caress she felt disappointed - but then he pressed his mouth to the spot right between her breasts, murmuring something like _oh Harry_ …, and then, fluidly, he knelt down, stroking her hips and her buttocks, kissing her belly above the navel, still whispering something that was muffled by the sound of pouring water and it aroused her even more. She could only feel the movement of his lips over her sensitive skin. The lips that were slowly moving downwards…

When he stopped again, just an inch above the tempting territory she couldn't stand it anymore. Her skin was tingling, she felt desire unfolding inside her more and more. Jesus, that was far too much. She bent over and kissed his wet hair. "Let's go to bed" she whispered.

Good God, he'd dreamt of hearing these words for so long; now, when he finally heard them he was overpowered by the meaning. _It was happening_. He held her hips nuzzling her belly, trying to get a grip of himself.

He could take her here and now, he knew they both were more than ready, he was on fire and felt the urge for fulfillment, he wanted her so badly… But on the other hand, urgent and febrile lovemaking in the shower seemed to not be the best idea for the celebration of their first time. He had waited for so long, he wanted to savour it, to sink deep in _here and now_ , to taste every second, every inch of her skin, to remember every tick of a clock hand. And Harry was most important, her demands, her pleasure, her urges for fulfillment… she deserved the best!

So he got up to his feet, still embracing her, moving his hands up over her body, and looking into her eyes, his face so close to her, he grinned at her. "Yeah" he murmured lovingly "it's gettin' a bit wet here."

He kissed her deeply and tenderly, enjoying her lips parting eagerly, and quickly he turned the water off, reaching out his hand to the wall beside the shower cabin, to take a huge fluffy towel off the rack. He covered them together with it, it was big enough, and started drying their bodies and heads off; she helped him, drying off his hair, and simultaneously kissing his ear, cheek, jaw, chin and neck. James slowed his movements to relish all the small details…

Finally he wrapped them together up in the towel, covering their heads with the towel shield, making them feel like they were in a small cosy tent, and he led them out of the bathroom, cuddling each other, skin to skin, holding, caressing and kissing. He grinned at the sight of the lamp alight at the bedside table, she must have switched it on on her way to the bathroom, and he sent a lot of loving thoughts to Mrs Warbeck, his neighbour and his cleaner who had changed the bed sheets just yesterday so they were still pristine and untouched as he hadn't slept at home last night.

"So this is it Lady Makepeace, isn't it" he murmured, just three feet away from his bed, cradling her in his embrace, rubbing his cheek against hers. "Care to continue? Mmm?"

Her grip around his neck tightened a bit. "I am trying to imagine your face if I said no" she said playfully.

She was a bit uncertain, he realised, and it totally sweetened him. _My babe_. He kissed the top of her nose. "As a real gentleman I would accept it with pain in my heart…"

"In your heart, really?" she moved a bit closer, pressing herself against him meaningfully. He continued bravely: "But I'm glad you didn't."

They kissed again and suddenly he lifted her up - she squealed with laughter, astonished - and set her down on the bed. In a second he was next to her and leaned over her. Still, wrapped in the cocoon of the white towel that noticeably constricted their motions, they just smiled at one another.

"This bed is new!" she remarked briskly, looking around. "You've bought a new one!"

"What on earth are ya talkin' about?"

"When Simone was here the bed was different. Old fashioned. Unusual for a macho man" she giggled, remembering the friendly chat with Simone about him.

He snorted with laughter. "Harry Makepeace, you find the strangest moments to talk about furniture…" he started kissing her jaw and neck.

"Well at least I am talking about the bed, not about a table or... a... book...case" the giggle stuck in her throat.

He raised his head. "I think it's time to get ourselves out of this stuff" he muttered.

"Yep, I am feeling like a silkmoth" she giggled again. In fact she felt like she was drunk, everything seemed somehow unreal.

He tugged the towel and pushed it out from under their bodies, throwing it on the floor. Then he returned to her, looking at her exposed body with delight. Under his burning look she shielded her eyes with her palms, like a confused child.

"And whatcha doin' now?" he asked, amused. "Hey?"

"It's so embarrassing" she whispered, making him laugh quietly.

"No it ain't. Look at me Harry" he leaned down, slightly touching her palm with his mouth. "Babe?"

She did. Their gazes locked.

"It's not embarrassing, it's wonderful. You are wonderful. You are beautiful" he said in a husky voice that created an unusual sensation within her. "I wanna see all of you. I wanna kiss you all over. Remember what I told ya once?"

Somehow she knew at once what he was getting at. "Yes."

"What did I tell you then?"

"That you… you want…"

"Yeah?"

"...to kiss every inch of my body" she said quickly, overpowered by what she saw in his eyes.

"Precisely…" did he seem to be making fun of her while she was so confused?! It made her angry.

"But we were pretending, remember?" she asked mischievously. "It was a kind of undercover. A game."

"Was it really?" his mouth reached her decolletage and went down to her breasts. But to her irritation he stopped again. "I don't wanna spoil the great moment" he muttered straight to her ear "but I need to ask this question right now before it's too late. Do we need a... protection?" He had a bunch of condoms within reach, in the drawer, but somehow he thought Harry wouldn't be delighted at this fact, in a way.

She giggled at his awkwardness. "No. It's not necessary." He sighed with relief.

"But you don't mean ya fancy havin' a baby in precisely nine months?" he joked, nibbling her ear.

"I most definitely do not!" he knew she was making fun of him a bit but was grateful she was not too serious at this moment. He took the hold of her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"Well I think I need to add that I had my medical checkup last month and I'm fine" good God he hated this kind of conversation, it could blow all the romance away in a second.

But that wasn't the case.

"I know, I had it too and I am fine too. And as I remember you didn't like the blood sampling and needles" she chuckled to his ear.

"That's a slur!" he laughed and finishing the banter he pulled her roughly to his body. Harry gasped feeling his indisputable arousal.

"Relax, babe" he muttered, stroking her buttock and thigh.

 _Relax_? What was he talking about? How could she _relax_ , being naked in bed with him, while his mouth, tongue and hands were doing all these wonderful things to her? When they were about to make love in no time?

Dempsey closed his eyes briefly feeling her hands caressing his back. Oh God she knew how to do it. Her hands were moving over his body, she had found the sensitive spots very quickly and now she just knew how to send him straight onto cloud nine. He looked at her, her face flushing, her eyes shining, her lips parted, she seemed to be lost in her very own world of sensation and it turned him unbelievably on. He continued caressing her, down her body, listening to her sighs and quiet - still quiet - moans…

"Oh James" she groaned when he caressed her with his mouth, in the most intimate way a woman can be by her man. "OH JAMES!"

He wanted to continue, tempted to give her more and more pleasure until he witnessed her release - but he also felt the urge to see her face mirroring waves of the great pleasure he was giving to her, to see those eyes, now dark blue with desire. So quickly he raised himself up higher noticing her indignant sigh of disappointment, which amused him again. They kissed again, smiling at each other between kisses, holding each other tight, but not too tight, and looking into his eyes she reached out her hand and touched him. Shyly, tentatively, delicately, first, then stronger, finally she grasped him - and James fell into a dark abyss. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, trying to get a grip of himself while she caressed him, equally titillatingly and tenderly. He reached out his hand touching her too; she briefly closed her eyes but opened them again, their gazes locked, their breaths quickening.

"I aint gonna be able to hold myself back much longer, Harry" was all he managed to say.

To his quiet regret she let go of him and put her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her.

"Then don't" she whispered to his ear.

* * *

James nuzzled Harry's neck trying to regain his breath still coming in quick, short gasps. The blood was still hard pounding in his temples. Under his palm he felt Harry's thunderous heartbeat was slowing down gradually although her arms were still locked tightly around his back and neck. He held her in a tight embrace too and wasn't going to let go of her.

Her body was still trembling after the deep long sweet orgasm. For a long while she allowed herself just to lie there in his arms, her eyes closed, inhaling the scent of him, his aftershave, his sweat, the pheromones, an usual mixture on the skin of someone who'd just made love yet still unique. It was a good moment. Safe. Quiet. Beautiful.

Finally he raised his head and rolled himself up onto his elbow to look at her, still feeling dizzy. Her face was so close to his he could feel her breath and she opened her eyes looking at him dreamily. Another unique moment between them, after their first lovemaking - and the last one like that as none of such moments in the future will be the same.

"Truth, Harry" he demanded "did the earth move?"

In a second she remembered in what circumstances he had said it to her some time ago and sighed contentedly. "Wasn't it a bomb exploding?"

He laughed. "Sort of. A sex bomb exploding beneath me, yeah."

She slapped his arm slightly. "More respect, James, you're talking to the woman you've just seduced."

"Have I really?" he cocked his eyebrow slyly. "Have _I_? Who was the seducer tonight, huh?"

"Well someone had to be!" she mirrored his wide grin "... to take things in hand."

"Yup you did" he grinned, remembering her bold caresses during the foreplay. She pretended not to have heard that.

"... but you should be proud of yourself anyway. It took us a whole nine days, you know? Of which I spent three far from you. Good result."

"What can I say. I was a real gentleman."

She stroked his cheek. "You were cute. All the time then… and now."

" _Cute._ "

"Yes."

"I'd never think I could be called _cute_ in bed."

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me" she kissed his chin. "Your reputation of a macho man is safe too."

"I won't tell anyone you're not so cool and distant, either" he reciprocated, grinning and kissing her nose. She snorted, blushing a bit, remembering herself being absolutely _not_ cool and distant just minutes ago. "But I need to tell ya I'm not always _cute_ in bed."

"I won't mind if you aren't" she giggled.

He looked at her closely, focusing on something. "One, two, three…"

"What on earth...?" she laughed.

"Four, five…"

"James?"

"Nine. You have nine freckles on your nose" he grinned, kissing the nose again.

"Oh, those" she pouted. "I hate them."

"Why the hell do you? They're lovely. You shouldn't cover them with this makeup stuff. They are… yours. See the scar on my face?"

"Well it's different. You're a man. Scars on a man's face are sexy. Freckles aren't"

"Of course they are! Like I said they're yours. So they are sexy" he smiled. "Everything about you is sexy."

"Like what?" she asked provocatively batting her eyelashes. "Except freckles?"

He took up the challenge. _OK honey you got it_. "Well… the way you smile, for example. The way you look at me, yeah it drives me crazy. The way you eat cherries."

"I beg your pardon?! How do I eat cherries?!"

"… the way you drink champagne. Laugh when we talk. Talk to me when we're alone" _It's turning me on again_ , he thought. _It's turning her on again, too_ , he noticed with satisfaction and continued, his voice lowered:

"It's how you move. And how you moved in bed with me. And how you came."

"Dempsey!" she blushed furiously.

"And all these interesting words you said _before_ you came!" he grinned at her. She looked at him, surprised.

"I, umm, I didn't say anything."

"You think so?" he kept on grinning from ear to ear.

"God, you're kidding me, please James tell me you're kidding me."

"I ain't. Believe me Harry it _was_ very sexy what you were saying."

"What did I say?"

"Oh" he winked "just nice things. Really. 'sides I've already forgotten. Just remember they were nice."

She closed her eyes, embarrassed. She'd never think she'd let out any sounds other than unintelligible moans and sighs, and, well, the amorous cries, during lovemaking. Well… perhaps she never had before?... Actually she'd never, ever had such a great lover. Like she had presumed before James was absolutely… wonderful in bed. Tender, a bit wild, creative. But to her surprise she had kept up with him. It seemed he'd woken up this _something_ in her that let her leave all the… prudery and awkwardness behind.

"Next time I'll try to remember…" she said more to herself and he laughed heartedly.

"Next time you won't remember 'cos you'll focus on us, babe, you and me again" he took her in his arms and nuzzled her cheek whispering "'cos if you think I've finished with you for tonight M'lady…" Feeling his arousal she briefly closed her eyes, savouring the sensation again, excited, now knowing what she could expect from him.

"No, wait!" she sat up so abruptly that he jumped up a bit, shocked. "You have to tell me one thing more before we… well, right now."

He groaned and fell back to the pillow. "I knew I wouldn't get away with it too easily" he complained to the ceiling.

She leaned over him and jabbed her finger in his chest. "Remember you told me about your… little friendly chat with Spikings, when I resigned from the force? In a pub?"

"Sure I do" he agreed.

"He told you that I... cared, right? Which made you decide to come to me and plead with me to come back?"

"Yup I must say that's the word" he nodded. "When a man gets down on his knees and says…"

"Yells" she smirked.

"... yells, all right, that he wants a girl back, it is a plea." He wrapped his arms around her waist. "To the point, Harry? The night is short" he winked.

"The night is young" she retorted. "All right, so you knew - from Spikings, which is embarrassing enough for me but let's leave that for now - that I… cared, then you made me come back to SI-10, and you told me it made you happy. Right?"

"That's what we just agreed" he sighed with resignation.

"And yet you haven't said a word. Haven't done anything. Why, James? Why have you just left the things as they were before? Didn't you ever worry that I could find a boyfriend?"

"Which you nearly did."

"No I didn't! So?" she insisted, leaning over him, so beautiful, glowing, cheeks flushed, eyes full of happiness but also curiosity. He sighed and held her tighter.

"'Cos when you came back it all felt so great and promisin' at the time, and the day was really hectic and crazy, and when I woke the very next mornin' and was able to pull myself together I thought Spikings may've been wrong" he was talking quickly. "It seemed rather impossible for me that you… that you were… and I… I feared being rejected if I tried to do something" he finally confessed. "So I decided not to do anything, just wait and see. And since you haven't made a move either…" he shrugged.

She shook her head incredulously. "Hard to believe a macho man like you could risk losing everything only because you thought 'it seemed rather impossible'" She saw a trace of torment in his eyes and decided to get over it. "Silly you" she whispered and leaned forward to finish the conversation with another ardent kiss. Still embracing her waist, he rolled her over onto her back with ease.

"One day I'm gonna ask you why _you_ haven't done anything, smartie" he whispered against her lips, feeling her arms locking around his neck and there was nothing else left to say.

* * *

The moonlight was seeping through the curtains of the dark bedroom.

"James?"

"Mmmm?..."

"It was a better idea than going to Angie's party, wasn't it?"

"Mmmm…"


End file.
